


Sweet Spot

by wRitngKnks_Lix



Category: Lee Felix (stray kids) - Fandom, Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Angst and Tragedy, F/M, Feels, Fluff and Angst, Non-Idol AU, Slow Burn, friends to lovers (like at the very end)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2019-08-17
Packaged: 2019-09-14 18:32:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 22
Words: 47,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16918113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wRitngKnks_Lix/pseuds/wRitngKnks_Lix
Summary: Dani runs away from home after her father goes too far with his usual antics. She then finds herself in Australia in search of a place to call home.After Felix's father died, taking the ferry became his only form of comfort. His raging alcoholic of a mother, unaware of her son's unconditional love, continuously verbally abuses him adding to the guilt of his father's death.They meet at Sweet Spot, an ice-cream shop that Felix works at, and begin to find a friend in each other.





	1. Free At Last

**Author's Note:**

> TW: verbal and sexual abuse and mentions of suicide and death.
> 
> I AM DESPERATE PLEASE READ THIS IT IS MY FIRST WORK PLEASE BE NICE. :) <3

    His gaze was fire, penetrating. My body his canvas, his fingertips the brushes and the violet blues his rough strokes. They exist on my collar bones, cheeks, neck, every inch of my body. I sit in the shower, scrubbing, scratching my skin raw but the violets are permanent, a beautiful flower tainted by a sickening voice that torments my nightly thoughts, “You are mine.”

                                                                                                                        ****

    The dawn’s tinted rose bounced off the bedroom walls, indicating my time to rise. I gathered my things quickly and crept down the stairs. Swiftly and ghost like. An action that has become second nature to me. The living room was littered with beer bottles, some completely empty, others half full. Crossing from the stairs to the front door was a game of hopscotch, one foot in the air, another strategically dodging the glass bottles. A few more jumps and I would be free, but a voice, the same voice that haunts me at night, brought my game of hopscotch to a halt.

      “Where are you off to darling?"

    The words wouldn’t form; the letters were lodged in the back of my throat, crouching in fear. They sputtered out of my mouth, my lips attempting to form a protective tent over them.

    “Just to the beach.”

    His lurking eyes washed over me. In one curt motion, he was looming over me, gawking at the fresh new mark that now prolonged on the crevice of my collar bone. A tear was flooding my eye, announcing its close departure.

    “You’re not off to see a boy, are you?”

    The close proximity of our faces created a lump in my throat.

    “ _No, papá_.”

    His gruff calloused fingers groped the loose strands of hair falling out of my pigtail. He was in a trance, watching my hair swirl around his finger like a merry go round.

    “Who’s little girl are you?”

    It took every ounce in me to hold in my tears but even more so to mutter the four words that I’ve downloaded into the files of my brain.

    “I’m daddy’s little girl.”

    He smiled, a picture of my father I wish I held dear, and placed a kiss on the crown of my head. I inhaled a shaky breath, swallowing the disgust as he pressed his lips on my head. **Don’t cry, don’t cry.** I repeated it. Over and over.

    “Don’t be late.”

    “ _Si, papá._ ”

    My feet took off as soon as the words escaped my lips. A single tear rolled down my cheek as the humid morning air hit my face.

 

                                                                                                                        ****

  I let the symphony of the piano tiles simmer the beating drum in my chest. As I engulfed my senses into the mellow keys, I approached my usual spot next to the pier. The lady with the flower in her hair pranced along the shore-as she has done for the past thirteen years. I’ve never grown the courage to talk to her, not even a simple ‘Good Morning.’ She smiles at me from time to time and it shatters my heart just a little, hoping and searching, for the longing face of my mother. I contemplated on taking a photograph of her honey suckled smile and the vibrant yellow that is neatly tucked beside her ear and place it in the pages of my collection, but that wouldn’t be right. Instead I litter the blank pieces in my journal with as many metaphors as I can think of. Similes for the amber orbs that resemble my own and her velvety soft curls that cascade down her back. What is her name? What is her favorite dish, her preferred way of taking coffee? What lies beneath her caramel dipped skin? I have wondered if she is as miserable and lost as I am, if that is the sole reason for her morning strolls along the shore just as my daily visits are. I wish I could run. I want to run. Far away, from everything I know. But there is a voice in my head that whispers reality, **“There is no escape.”**

 ****

    It is noon as I prance on the pier, not interested in any rides in particular or the overpriced junk sold in the food court. I make my way towards the edge of the pier and settle for a bench overlooking the waves. The wind traces its fingers through my curls; **I am safe.** For a split second, I can exhale without fear and close my eyes with serenity. The waves beg me goodbye as their sweet sound drown me into a deep slumber.

 

                                                                                                                         ****

    I wake to a flashing light in my eyes and the navy blue sky above me.

    “Miss, are you okay?”

    My eyes finally adjust and see a police officer standing in front of me. My tongue was failing me, once again unable to form words. Worry stricken the officer turns the flashlight off, placing it back into its holster.

    “Do you have somewhere to stay tonight?” ,he continues.

    Confusion is written all over my face as he asks his question. He pulls out his phone and shows me the time.

    “It’s a quarter past midnight. Miss, do you have anywhere to go?”

    My blood ran cold. **No, no, no. It can’t be.** I took off, unbothered by the officer’s questionnaire. My heart was palpitating, crouching in fear of what was to come, as my feet slapped the concrete of the dark streets. Rounding the corner I take time to calm my breathing, a mere whisper against the quiet night. Each step I take my feet seem to murmur, **Keep walking Dani. You will never see the light of day if you don’t.** I shook the thought away as I approach my doorstep. **Inhale and exhale** , I instructed myself, reaching for the front door and twisting the knob. Within seconds, my hair is in a twist, calloused fingers and soot filled fingernails yanking on the roots of my locks. My eyes are glued to the wine stain on the rug, finding comfort in the old piece of fabric. His hot breath, like a bulls, scurried down my nose - his words even more penetrating.

    “Where were you?!"

    His response through gritted teeth enveloped me in a trance. I was mute and stagnant. His booming voice shook through me once again as he tightened his grip.

    “Answer me!”

    Blubbering like a baby, I begin to speak, “The beach. I fell asleep.”

    As my words crawl out of my mouth, he grows closer. His eyes are fixed on the fluttering of my eyelashes as they shut in panic.

    “I swear.” It comes out soft and high, audible only to his ears.

    Like a wave of relief, my hair is set free, only to be met with his lips on my forehead. He reeked of cheap wine, the kind you’d get at the liquor store down the street. He walks back to his usual spot by the T.V already forgetting about the event beforehand - just as he always does. I scurry upstairs, not bothering to lock the door knowing he’ll only pry it open at night. I throw my bag onto the bed and run into the shower fully clothed, unbothered by the cold water as it hits my skin. I scrub my forehead, stripping it of the wine. I scrub my neck, my arms, my hair, wanting to erase his touch. I stand in the shower, arms embracing one another, staring at the water droplets that make their way down my soaked figure. I plead to them, I beg to them, **Please wash the pain away.**

 

                                                                                                                       ****

    “Time to to wake up sweety.”

    I wake in a cold sweat at the familiar yet foreign voice of my mother. **It feels too real to be a dream** , I repeat to myself in attempts to wash away the uncertainty and the gaping hole her absence has left. I close my eyes once more and smell the pancake batter whipped with an extra hint of cinnamon and listen for the sizzle of eggs and bacon hitting the pan. **Snap out of it Dani. She is never coming back.** Defeated by my own thoughts, I throw on the hoodie laying on the ground and hurry down the stairs with my bag in hand.

    The sight before me is the same. A beer in hand, the T.V. on a sports channel he merely glances at, and his eyes fixated on the stairs - awaiting me. Today, something is different. His eyes hold an unchanging hunger, yet a hint of sadness and loneliness I ‘d never imagine my father could hold. At the sound of my flip flops, his gaze meets mine. I am met by a strange image; his eyes are red and glazed. **Has he been crying?** My feet shuffle towards him, an invisible string latched to my torso, as he lazily rails me in with his index finger. For a second, he says nothing and only stares at the ring that is swirling around my middle finger. The ring does one final circuit, as he jerks my hand into his, holding it a little too roughly. Chills travel down my spine at the sudden action; the chills fold into my skin as his voice cuts the silence.

      “You’ll never leave me, right,” his grip grows tighter as he kneads his crushing thumb into the veins of my hand, “Will you baby?”

    His words hit me like an avalanche. My legs, feet, arms, hands, ears, and eyes are ice. My body is undoubtedly his, a marble sculpture frozen in time, weakened by the fragilest of touches. _The art must not be touched_ is a rule unbeknownst to him, as he taints the surface with a kiss. And another. And another. Until she cracks. Until the marble-esque goddess is goddess no more.

    “My princess would never leave me.” His words are caught in the crevice of my neck, welcomed by years of discipline.

    I am a puppet under his touch; there is no escaping when he is in control. His fingers slither down the outskirts of my body, reaching for the top of my bottoms and searching for the last sliver of purity that I held dear. **Stop. Stop. Stop.** It rang in my head - kicked, punched, and screamed to be heard, but I only stood, lips sealed, as my pants fell around my feet.

    “You look so much like your mother.”

    My blood ran cold, awakening my senses from years of slumber. **Stop him.** My skin begged. **Don’t let him hurt us anymore.** My eyes quickly scanned the room for something. For anything. Trapped under him, I laid my hand on the closest thing there was, something I believed would only bring me misery, but brought a surge of adrenaline and glee in that moment. I swung the half empty beer bottle at the back of his head, dousing him in sods of alcohol. **Goodbye father.** He landed on the glass filled rug with a thud. Shaking, I put my pants on, snatched my bag next to his unconscious figure, and ran. The sounds of my slapping flip flops probably awoke the neighbors and many more after passing, but I did not care. **I was soaring**. Alive more than ever. **I was free.**

 

                                                                                                                          ****

      I ran to the ticket counter faster than my feet could carry me, startling a family of four and what seemed to be a newlywed couple, on the way to the lady sitting at the desk.

    “When’s the next flight out?” I did not give the nice lady time to greet me nor did I bother to greet her with the usual ‘Good morning’ I’d greet the elderly woman at the bake shop.

    “In one hour, Miss.”

    “Great. Where to?”

    “Queensland, Australia.”

    I could care less where the next flight took me, as long as it was far. Far from here and far from him.

    “Awesome. How much?”

    “That’ll be $1,900.”

    My heart dropped to the pit of my stomach. **That’s all the money I have.** My brain went into panic mode. **What am I going to do once I arrive?**

    “I’ll take one.”

    The nice lady smiled, showing off a bit of her red lipstick tinted teeth.

    “Cash or card?”

    I hand her my debit card with no hesitation. **He’ll never find me.** She hands me back my card along with my ticket and does not fail to show her stained teeth once more as she smiles.“Enjoy your flight.”

    I smile as I walk to the waiting area. I have little to nothing in the midst of many who carry luggages upon luggages. And in that moment, as I sit in waiting, I could not feel happier.

 

                                                                                                                 ****

     Landing in Gold Coast Airport set my heart in a frenzy. It pounded in my chest, dancing to an unfamiliar beat; it seemed to whisper, **This is not home**. My head quickly chimed in, **It is now.** Everything was so strange. People talked differently and they seemed nice, but the air was different most of all. It no longer held the humidity of summer nor did it smell of loneliness and desperation. As I breathed in the cool and new air, I shut my eyes, imagining the only home I’ve ever known - the sea. **I can get used to this.** The realization soon dawned on me, **I have nowhere to go. What on earth am I going to do?**

 

                                                                                                                 ****

      My feet were killing me. After walking what felt like an eternity, I collapsed on the sand. I dug my toes in and my fingers too, reaching for something yet nothing at all. The sand seemed to welcome me embracing my body in a warm blanket. It whispered in my ear, **You’re back**. I began to make snow angels, wiping my arms and legs at an alarming rate. A smile spread across my face. I probably looked crazy to others, but I could not contain the euphoria that was radiating through me. My eyes fixated on the swirls of color above me. The berry pink and hues of blue that flew across the evening sky hypnotized me. I was spellbound by the Universe all around me. **Rest my child. The worst is over. This is your beginning.**

 

                                                                                                                  ****

     I woke up to a gentle hand slightly shaking my shoulder. The voice smelt of cinnamon and chocolate as it spoke softly.

     “Are you okay _mija_?”

 **Mija? Who is this?** I was half asleep, the figure before me blurred by my heavy eyelids. Drunk on the thought of my mother’s return, I reach out for her hand.

    “ _Mami?"_

     The voice is back, closer this time. It speaks into my ear now, “You’re okay. I’m going to take care of you.”

     Convinced it is my mother, I lean into the mystery figure’s warmth. **She smells like home.** As I am consumed by dreams once more, I tell them the news. **She’s back. I knew she’d come back.**


	2. Canela

     I am awoken to the strong scent of homemade chocolate. I shoot up as I gain consciousness. **Where the hell am I?**

    To my left I hear the voice from last night speak, “ _Buenos días, dormilona._ ” (Translation: Good Morning, sleepy head.)

     My head does a complete 360, searching for the face that belongs to the cinnamon induced voice. At the sight of the older woman, my breathing calms a bit. She doesn’t speak, only blows at her steaming hot cup of chocolate. **She’s waiting for your response,** I tell myself but I can’t bring myself to part my lips. As she sips her drink, I examine her. Her hands are rough and calloused, yet were so warm and welcoming at our first encounter. The wrinkles in the creases of her eyes appeared deeper as she blew into her mug - it read “ Candi’s Sweet Spot.” It was clear as day, she was of mature age. If the wrinkles in her eyes and drooping cheeks didn’t tell you, the bad hair dye did so. Her skin resembled that of the hot chocolate in her hands - just a tad bit lighter. And her eyes. Her eyes were just like mine. Frozen in thought, I spoke the first words that came to mind.

    “You’re not my mother.”

    Her ears perked up at the sound of my voice. Unsure of how to approach my statement she offered me hot chocolate. “It’ll calm your nerves,” she claimed.

    With that, she scurried into the kitchen next to the bedroom. I could hear her whilst she was pouring the chocolate into another mug. Her sweet melody soothed my breathing even more. In minutes, I was met by her soft touch as she placed the mug in my hands. I took one sip and my body instantly leaned into the warmth and familiar taste - chocolate with a hint of cinnamon. **How did she know?**

    “ _Rico, no_?” (Translation: Good, no?)

    My lips formed a half smile as I could only nod.

    “Want to know what the secret is?”

    Once again, I nodded, already knowing the answer to her secret recipe. **It is my secret recipe too** , I wanted to tell her.

    “ _Un poquitico de canela_ ,” she whispered, as if someone would hear us and tell the whole world of this extravagant new discovery. (Translation: A bit of cinnamon.)

    I held the mug up to my face, allowing the swift steamy air to graze my cheeks.

    “ _Gracias, señora_.” Somehow it felt right to speak Spanish with her; it was easier and the words rolled like butter off my tongue. (Translation: Thank you, mam.)

    She reached for me, forming a tent over my hands and the mug I held. Her voice enlightened me once again as she spoke, “You can call me Candi.”

    As her hazel eyes bore into mine the thought of repaying her for her kindness, tiptoed its way into my head. Without hesitation my abrupt voice broke the silence, “I need to pay you back. I can’t stay here much longer. I’ve got to figure out where I’m going, of getting a job to pay you back.” My words came out breathy and rushed, as if she were to vanish into nothing. She only smiled at me; it reminded me of the lady with the flower in her hair. They both shined brighter at the curve of their lips. Warmly she reassured me that there was no need to pay her back. What she said next surprised me, yet struck a string of hope and clarity I had forgotten existed.

    “ _Esta es tu casa_. You can help me with the shop. I’m one short of staff and I’m sure Felix will enjoy the company.” (Translation: This is your house.)

    She swept off her feet at the last sentence, flashing me her inviting smile.

    “I’ll leave you to it, I’m sure you need the rest.”

    Her slippers scratched the tiles surface as she scurried out of the room and into the kitchen, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

 

                                                                                                                      ****

    That night, I replayed her words over and over in my head, like a record player. **Esta es tu casa.** Did she really mean that? It couldn’t be and why was she being so nice? She hardly even knows me. As my thoughts pranced along the idea of her generosity, my mind brought my thoughts dance to a halt. Who’s Felix and why would he enjoy my company? I imagined what the boy would look like and how he’d sound like. Is he as kind as Candi? Does his voice sound of cinnamon and chocolate too? I wondered and pondered over yet another stranger in my life until sleep lulled me to sleep. **You think too much,** it complained. Obediently, I shut my eyes and my thoughts too.


	3. Happy Birthday, Dad

                                                                                                        *NARRATOR’S P.O.V*

 

    The alarm at his bedside rang with a piercing ring; it was the only option that could get him out of bed. With a grunt and a few sighs he threw the covers aside and lifted himself off his bed into the bathroom. He splashed his face with water and gripped onto the sides of the sink as he blankly stared at his reflection in the mirror. His eyes were sunken in, heavy bags prominent under the boy’s eyes, despite rest. Something much heavier was weighing on him, something a good night’s rest couldn’t mend. Not wanting to be late, he hurried back to his room and threw on one of many black shirts tucked into his drawers, and a pair of black jeans, identical to the rest stashed in his closet. Slithering into a thin sweater and pulling a beanie over his head, he stepped into the living room. His eyes watered and his breathing hitched; it was suddenly harder to swallow as he saw the image of his mother sleeping with an empty beer bottle in hand. This was an everyday occasion, yet it tied his airways into knots and drove icicles into his chest. Without a second thought, he scurried to his mother’s side, wrapping the blanket tighter around her and setting the bottle of Castlemaine XXXX on the coffee table.

    He cooed into her ear, hushed enough not to wake her, “ Good morning, mum.”

    Knowing she wouldn’t hear him he still told her of the days plans, “I’ll be back at 8 okay? I’ve got to go to work.”

    He tidied up her hair, pushing the loose strands out of her face behind her ears. The hidden pain reflected across his short and curt smile. He whispered one last time, “I’ll be back soon,” and stood from his kneeling position to hurry out the door.

    He made sure to make a pit stop at the bake shop and pick up his dad’s favorite - a lemon cupcake with strawberry frosting on top. He arrived at the bake shop in five minutes and hastily paid the cashier the three dollar fifty for the pastry. Well aware of the time, he speed walked and half jogged to the ferry ride departing in five minutes. The ride would only last around twenty minutes going to and from the dock. Sometimes, he wished it would last longer and take him away, but he’d mentally scold himself for thinking like that. **He could never leave Australia. He could never leave his mum.**

    Climbing on board, transported him back to his fourth birthday. He held one cupcake in his hand while the other was firmly held by his dad - with his other free hand he held a cupcake identical to Felix's. He smiled at the fond memory whilst inspecting the tiny flakes of fresh strawberry in the lightly tinted pink frosting. He made his way towards the front and leaned over the railing. Careful not to drop the dessert, he formed a wall around it with one of his hands while the other scavenged through his right pocket looking for the birthday candle and light stick. Upon retrieving the objects, he stuck the candle in the center and lit it up, bringing slight warmth to the apples of his cheeks.

    “Make a wish dad,” he uttered against the cool morning breeze as he squeezed his eyes shut. He blew out the candle and opened his eyes to gaze at the small and steady waves below him.

    “Happy birthday,” he whispered to the wind. He stood in silence for a few minutes, peering at the jade waters longingly. **Why aren’t you here with me?**  he thought. **I need you.** Brushing the thoughts aside, he took a bite of the cupcake. **It’s delicious. It’s no surprise it was his favorite**. The cupcake was gone within a minute, enamored by the nostalgia each bite sung. The ferry was rounding back already; he glanced at the time - his screen read 9:45 a.m. **Shit.** If he didn’t bolt as soon as the ride arrived at the dock, he would be late for work.

    The ferry came to a complete stop at 10:05. **Crap. Crap. Crap.** He had less than twenty minutes to get to work. His legs carried him out of there in a flash, picking up pace as soon as the clock struck 10:10. **Candela’s going to bust a vein, or worse, bust mine if I’m late to work. Again.**

 

****

     “You’re late. Again.”

    Felix was out of breath, his hands on his knees trying to recollect himself.

    “What? That’s impossible! I swear it was just like 10:15.” **Wow, do I really run that slow?**

    Candela rambled on and on about how a fine young man like himself should be punctual and aware of his timing, but all Felix could do was smile as he looped his apron around his neck and around his waist.

    “You love me,” he stated.

    Candela could never say no to him. He was like the son she never had, and even though he tested her limits from time to time, she loved him.She couldn’t help but pinch his cheeks as she spoke, “Of course I do, _mijo_.”

    “I have someone I’d like you to meet.”

    His ears perked up at the idea of talking to someone new. Ever since Chris left to study in Korea, his days were filled with an unlimited supply of feeling lonesome. **A new face would be nice.** Candela looked sideways. Using her side glance as a guideline, Felix snapped his attention over his right shoulder. Standing in the corner, was a girl. **She’s so small,** was all he could think. He gave her a small smile, but she only shied away, finding deep interest in the tiles design.

    Candela’s voice snapped his attention back to her, “Show her around.”

    And with those three simple words and a pat on his shoulder, he was left with the girl who had her eyes glued to the floor.

    “I’ve gotta go run some errands, don’t burn the place down while I’m gone!” Her laughs could be heard even after she shut the door behind her.

    Felix rubbed the back of his neck, not really knowing what to do or what to say, until he noticed the apron hugging his body. **Duh.** He took the only apron left on the rack and walked over to her.

    “Uh, here.” He extended his arm out.

    She took it without meeting the boy’s doe eyed stare, and successfully tied it around her body. It fit her way past her knees, an indication that his past thought was correct. **This girls tiny.** He noticed how her eyes lingered on the ends of the fabric.

    Nervously he spoke up, “We can get that tailored if you want. Or we have scissors too. We can cut it right now if it’s bothering you.”

    She glanced up, confused by the boy’s attitude. He had a pair of scissors ready to go in his hands.

    “I’m okay,” she whispered.

    He cursed himself for rambling on with scissors in his hand like a madman. **You scared her, you dipshit.** He placed the scissors back on the rack, leaving his hands without distractions.

    “I’m Felix by the way,” he mentioned while awkwardly extending his now free hand.

    Her response was barely above a whisper, “Dani.”

    She dismissed his hand and quickly averted her gaze to the line of people anxiously waiting for their sweet treat. She nodded in their direction, “We have customers.”

    Felix turned around wide eyed, but did not fail to show his bright smile as he rushed to the register.“Hi, welcome. I’m so sorry for the delay. What can I get you?”

    She observed him as he met each customer with a wide grin. **He’s so kind** , she thought, **I could never do that.** He waved her over as soon as the customers departed.

    “Your turn.”

    She looked at him dumbfounded.“What?”

    “Greet the customers, smile and ask for their order.”

    She twirled the sunflower ring on her middle finger, unprepared to talk to sweet craved customers, as she shuffled back next to the tubs of ice cream that were on display. “Um, I think I’ll just stick to making the orders,” she added in nervously, “for now.”

    “Come on, this isn’t rocket science.”

    She muttered, “Easy for you to say, sunshine.”

    “I’m going to take that as a compliment.”

    Her head shot up, her eyes fixed on the goofy smile he was flashing; the shy awkward boy was gone in an instant. She looked at him. Really looked at him, taking in most of his features. His hair was blonde for the most part and his face was scattered with tiny freckles.

    “Take it however you’d like, but I am not moving from this station.”

    He crossed his arms and shrugged, “Suit yourself.”

 

                                                                                                                     ****

     Two hours went by with no customers in sight. Felix stood up from his stool next to the register. Suddenly alert, Dani calls out, “Where are you going?”

     Confused he slowly lets out his response, “To the bathroom?”

    The sudden stiffness in her body causes his lips to curve upward.

    “Relax. The shop’s been dead for over an hour. You’ll be fine.”

    She relaxes at his logic. **He’s right,** she thought. The skyline is a tint of raspberry blue, the night time eagerly crawling among them. **Who would want ice cream at** **this hour anyway. Right?** Wrong. Her heart dropped to the pit of her stomach as a woman walked up to the register. She froze for a minute thinking, **What do I do? I can’t just ignore her. Come on Dani suck it up. You can do this.** She shook out of her panic induced trance and stepped off her stool.

    “How can I help you?” Her voice sounded shaky and unsure; she mentally cursed herself for stuttering.

    Felix stood near the back of the shop, next to the door that would lead to Candela’s home. He watched her tentatively as she scrambled to offer the menu to the customer. **She sucks at this,** was all he could think, but he stayed put, knowing it was necessary for her to learn. He waited to hear her say, “Have a sweet day!”, the catchphrase Candela had come up with randomly, to step in.

    “Not bad.”

    Without hesitation she huffed out, “I was horrible.”

    Felix couldn’t help but laugh.

    “Yeah. Yeah you were.”

    He noticed her glare and the tiny fists that had formed at his teasing.

    “It’s okay, you’ll get better. Practice makes perfect right?”

    “Sure,” she scoffed.

    Felix let out a light laugh, “Don’t worry about it. It’s only your first time.” He presumed to lightly nudge her on the shoulder, but what he failed to recognize was the slight flinch she emitted as his arm made contact with her. She was too familiar with touch; she wished she wasn’t.

    “I’m clocking out.” He took off his apron and neatly hung it on the rack near the back door. “Tell Candela I’ll be on time tomorrow. I promise.”

    He slithered into his gray sweater. **He’ll freeze,** she thought, not fully accustomed to the new cool environment, as she saw the leaves sway on the tree’s branches. They seemed to wave hello at her.

    “See you tomorrow. Goodnight!”

    His voice was loud against the now empty and semi dark shop. She wanted to bid him goodbye as well, but he flew out the door, faster than light could travel, but she knew her lips wouldn’t allow the words to form a simple ‘Goodnight’ even if she wished to.


	4. S&P

                                                                                                             *DANI’S P.O.V*

 

    I found myself forcefully sitting in the dining room as Candi prepared dinner for us. After many attempts of unsuccessfully sliding into the bedroom, she locked the door and sat me down on a chair. **God, is she strong. For an old lady.** The savory scent danced around my nostrils. **It smells delicious.** She set down a hefty filled plate in front of me; my mouth watered at the sight of the shredded beef and rice tightly tucked into the brim of the plate. It was bound to spill out if I didn’t start eating. She smiled as she sat across from me and began to dig in into her dinner.

    “I take it you’ve tried _ropa vieja_ before,” she questioned.

    I simply nodded while continuously inhaling the dish before me. She continued questioning me. I could tell she was curious about my background and why I had shown up on that beach.

    “Your _mamá_ used to make it?”

     I shook my head no. **The only time my mom ever cooked me a meal was in my dreams.**

     “Your _papá_ then?”

     I stopped chewing and for once met her gaze. I spoke.

     “No.” My mouth burned as I muttered that word. “I used to make it. On my own.”

     As quickly as the surging, raged, angered confidence ignited, it dissipated into nothing. I hung my head low again, fingers tracing over the watermelon designs that were painted on the drape covering the table.

    “I bet yours tastes ten times better than mine.”

    “No- no, _señora_. Of course-”

    “What did I say about you calling me _señora_?” She gave me a stern look.

    “Right. _Perdon,_ Candi,” I whispered at her polite command. (Translation: I'm sorry, Candi.)

    Her fingers lightly grazed mine as she spoke up. “Let’s make it together sometime.”

    My thoughts moved with an uncontrollable speed, my lips too slow to capture what was about to happen as I perked up, “Really!?”

    She laughed heartily; her laugh resembled her warm embrace. The one I have subconsciously craved ever since last night’s events.

    “Would you like that?”

    I remained quiet, unsure of how to react. She lightly chuckled as she began to wash the plates. “You must be tired after today. Go clean up. The bed is prepared for you.”

    “Candi?” She stops for a brief second and fixates her attention on my flustered expression, awaiting my question. I tug on my ring as I speak. “Uh... I need the key.”

    She seems puzzled for a second until she realizes what she had done earlier. With a semi wet hand she digs into her apron and pulls out the key. “Oh, right! I’m sorry _mija_. My memory isn’t as good as it used to be.”

    The key is cold and wet in my palm as I unlock the door. My body immediately gravitates toward the bed neatly sprawled out for me. **Today’s been different,** I think. A voice in my head whispers back, **Different is good. But different is new and new is scary,** I fight back. The words keep flowing in my head as my eyes begin to close. I fall asleep with the key still in my hand.

 

                                                                                                                      ****

    The next day is no different from the last. The shop opened at ten thirty in the morning, customers usually started showing up around twelve. From two in the afternoon till four was like rush hour and at five and six the shop began to die down until seven when it became deathly silent. The shop didn’t close for another two hours. "You never know when your sweet tooth’s gonna kick in." Atleast, that’s what Candi says. I was helping Candi stirr the ice-cream when she asked about Felix. Has he been nice and welcoming? Was he putting in effort to help me get situated in the workplace? She wanted to know so much from very little time we had spent together. All I could do was nod and say yes. It was the truth after all; he hasn’t been awfully rude.Yet. She leaned in a bit closer after hearing my response and whispered in my ear, aware of our close proximity from the register.

    “ _Es un mango, no le crees_?” I could hear the smirk in her voice. (Translation: He's cute isn't he?)

    “ _Claro que no_ ,” I scoffed. He was okay. Nothing out of a pop star magazine. (Translation: Of course not.)

     She smiled, “ _Ay que fria_!” (Translation: You're so cold.) She nudged my shoulder and turned the machine to a slow churn,“Finish up here and you have a thirty minute lunch break.”

       She walked over to Felix to tell him the same thing, I assume. He took off his apron and scooped up what looked like strawberry ice-cream into a waffle bowl. **Strawberry ice-cream, it suits him.** I wrapped up at my station and hung my apron back on the rack as well.

      “You can grab some ice-cream too, you know? And don’t act like you don’t want some. I saw you eyeing Felix as he took his serving.”

      I bashfully smiled at her observation. **The treat did look appetizing**.

      “ _Gracías_.” ( Translation: Thank you.)

      I scooped myself a pretty big serving of the pistachio flavor and took quick strides to the back corner of the shop. I plugged my headphones into my ears and watched as the world around me grew silent. I glanced over in Felix’s direction. His gaze was somewhat lost, staring at the swaying trees and the passersby, yet not staring at all. His face was strange, his usual smile tucked away in the pocket of his jeans. **He looks sad**. I shake any thoughts away as I concentrate on the piano keys flowing through my ears, closing my eyes in hopes of finding inspiration for my next piece. I am startled by the eerie sensation of a presence. I open my eyes and cower into my seat, whilst yanking the headphones out, bringing the melody to a stop. Felix is now sitting next to me, peering at the green creamy, puddle that has begun to form around my ice-cream.

    “I didn’t take you as a pistachio kind of girl.”

     “Oh?” was my lame response.

     “Sorry if I came off a bit too strong yesterday. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

     I nod in his direction, but avoid eye contact at all costs.

     “So how you holding up on your second day here? Do you like it?”

     “It’s okay,” I muttered.

     Felix clutched his chest and shut his eyes while acting as if he’s been shot. **He looks ridiculous.**

     “Is my service not up to par?” he faintly asks.

     I mentally sigh and groan, unable to deny the fact that he’s treated me better than any other person has in my entire life, aside from Candi.

     “You’re okay,” I let out.

     “Only okay?”

     I panic at his question and shove a spoonful of ice-cream in my mouth. I indulge the major brain freeze as I say, “Yeah.”

     He lets out a light laugh. He picks up his half eaten waffle bowl, tinted with the leftover creamy pastel of the strawberry ice-cream, and slides out of the seat next to mine. “Well then, I’ll leave you to it.”

     As he resumes his position across the shop, I exhale. **I can breathe again.**


	5. Holy shit, you hit Hard.

                                                                                                         *FELIX’S P.O.V*

 

    The high pitched ringing pierces my ears as I dead smack my head under the pillow. I sigh and groan, **It’s just another day. Come on you can do this. You have to do this.** Despite the years, it still hurts. The panging ache I feel in my chest the minute I wake up is beginning to take over. Going to work, scooping up ice-cream, seeing others smile- whether they mean it or not, is a relief; it makes it bearable. Now that I’ve met somebody new, I hope things can be better. She doesn’t talk much, but her company is nice nonetheless. I drag my feet to the kitchen and scavenge through the empty fridge awaiting a miracle. Mum’s heavy footsteps follow behind me.

    “Instead of staring at the empty fridge, why don’t you go buy groceries? Make yourself useful. Your mother is starving.” Her breath reeks of alcohol.

    “I will. As soon as I receive my paycheck this month.” A mixture of hiccups and a laugh fill the room.

    “Your paycheck won’t do. Not if you continue working at that ice-cream shop.”

    “It’s better than nothing.” She stops in her actions and walks closer. Within seconds, she has me in her grip, and yanks on my ear. As she speaks through gritted teeth, I can see the damage fourteen years of drinking have done; her smile is rotten.

    “Listen. A real man does not scoop ice-cream for a living. Get. A. Real. Job,” her harsh comment stings more than when she pulls me aside, forcefully yanking on my ear as she does so, “Now move. I’m thirsty.” She pops the top off of yet another beer bottle and gulps it down like there’s no tomorrow. She shoves it at my chest once she’s emptied it.

    “Throw that out for me, will you?” Softly and with no second thought I take it in my hands and hold it close to my chest. The bottle still gives off the slight warmth of her touch. I clutch it harder at the base, pretending it is her hand that I am holding rather than the object that has kept us apart for so long. **Why can’t you love me anymore?** I stop the tears from falling and walk to the door.

    “See you later mum,” I squeak out. I try my best to contain my voice from shaking. She takes no notice of me as she lazily glances at the T.V. As I step outside I whisper to myself, “See you later, Lix,” in hopes of tricking my brain into believing it to be her words, and not my own.

 

                                                                                                                    ****

    “You’ve got a real talent there.”

    “I need more practice,” I smile at Old Joe. **He’s too kind.**

    “Nonsense. You have a gift,” he retaliates. I stare at the piano keys, my fingers bowing to them as if to say, **I will play as you wish Master**. Joe pats my shoulders as he says, “Juilliard doesn’t know what it’s missing out on.” **Juilliard.** My heart stops beating at its mentioning. **I should be there,** but I had to turn down the scholarship. A full ride thrown down the drain. I couldn’t leave her; she is more important than piano lessons at Juilliard.

    I let out a small laugh, rubbing the base of my neck, “Thanks, Joe.”

    “So are you finally taking this beauty home today?” he asks as he gently taps the side of the piano. I shake my head no and respond, “I’m paying you the usual ten dollars. Money’s tight.” He nods his head in acknowledgement, “I understand. Very well then, not to worry. She will be yours sooner than you think. See!-” he holds up the wad of ten dollar bills I have been paying him “Only 300 dollars to go!”

    “See you in another four weeks Joe.” I wave as I head out the door.

    “I’ll keep her safe!” I hear him say as the door closes behind me.

 

                                                                                                                  ****

    “ _Ay mijo_ , what am I going to do with you!” Candela exclaims at my late arrival. Once again.

    “This is the last time. I promise, I promise,” I state as I secure the apron around my waist. To the side, I hear a newly familiar voice quietly speak, “I have a feeling you say that a lot.” Amused yet startled by her response, I scoot closer to her and speak, “Good morning to you too.” I look for any hint of joy in her eyes but I am only met with a death glare. **If looks could kill.**

    “Looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today,” I say in her direction as I move to the backroom to prepare the ice-cream. To no surprise, she remains silent. As I carry the tub of ice-cream to the display next to the register, I flash her a light smile in hopes of being welcoming. **It’s only her third day, she probably still feels like an outcast.**

    “You ready to take over the register today?” I ask, even though I’m fully aware she is not cashier ready. **Anything to have a conversation with her.** She shakes her head violently, letting out a few mumbled no’s. She lightly taps the edge of the display with her fingers and says, “I live, breathe, and eat in this position. I’m a great scooper.” She proceeds to feverishly jab at the vanilla flavor before her, holding up the finished product out to me, “See? Great scooper.”

    “Whatever you say.” I take the ice-cream from her and suck on the melting sides. “Whenever you’re ready,” I tap the side of the register. The jingle from the bell indicates our first customer of the day. As I take their order I lightly hear Dani mutter under her breath, “Yeah, I’m a great scooper.”

 

                                                                                                                         ****

      Ferry rides relaxed me. Peering over the rails and gazing at the waves crash against the boat was a dizzying, yet calming thing to do. I loved it. In the far distance, I could make out a small figure sitting by the shore. As the ferry rounded closer, I could see two familiar curly haired pigtails and a pen that glided with ease across a blank page. The sun was setting, **why was she still out? She should be heading home by now.** I crept up beside her. **This girl is deaf** , was all I could think as I sat next to her with my knees crouched up to my chest. Only one of her headphones was inserted in her ear while the other hung in the center of her collar, and yet she gave no indication of acknowledging my presence. I leaned in a bit closer and spoke in her ear, “For a girl who doesn’t talk, you sure do have a lot to say.” I am met by the leather taste of her notebook as it makes direct contact with my face. Her startled shrieks don’t fail to follow. An incoherent amount of “oh my gods and what the fucks” are heard as she realizes that she is in fact not being kidnapped, but instead smacked the shit out of me with brown worn leather.

    “What the fuck Felix! You don’t just creep up on people!” I hold out my hands in surrender as I try to overpower her yelling, “Alright alright alright, I’m sorry. Holy shit you hit hard.” I rub my cheek and massage the bridge of my nose. **That’ll leave a bruise.** As I lightly brush my fingers over my lips, checking for any growth in size, I can see the immediate sorrow in her eyes, but she quickly hangs her head low as she picks up her pen and continues to scribble words down.

    “What are you doing out here so late?” I wince as I accidentally stroked my nose a little too harshly. Her pen stops at the sounds exiting from my lips, and now fixates her gaze on her feet caught beneath the sand. The wind carries her voice as she speaks, “I could ask you the same question.”

    “ _Touché_.” It is silent for a moment until I intervene again, “So what are you writing with so much urgency?”

    Silence. I am only met with silence. **You can’t blame a kid for trying.**


	6. Avocado Seed.

                                                                                                               * DANI’S P.O.V*

 

    **Why is he so nosy?** I felt bad for giving the poor guy the smack of his life, but that did not give him permission to be gawking over my shoulder like a hawk. I reply harshly and a little too cold, “Stuff.”

    He sits next to me in what appears to be contemplation. He speaks as he nudges his knees into mine. **The nerve.** “What kind of stuff?” **He really doesn’t know** **when to stop.** I mentally sigh, but decide not to give more heat to the flame. I remain in silence as he longingly awaits my answer. **Can this boy not take a hint?** I can hear him silently talking to himself repeating the same phrase over and over. A barely audible string of okay’s fill the cool air.

    “You know, I swallowed an avocado seed when I was four.” His bizarre, yet strangely amusing story catches me off guard. **He is strange,** is all my brain can seem to process.

    “That is physically impossible.”

    His exaggerated arm and hand gestures add detail as he describes the events of that day. “No, no I swear! My dad had to squeeze me like a juice box until I threw it up.”

    I can’t help it. I smile genuinely and let out the smallest of laughs. Something in me stirs. **No one’s ever told me something like this before,** and then I remind myself, **I’ve never had someone to tell me things like this before**. At this newly discovered fact about him, I feel the need to reciprocate. **No, no. I want to.**   **But what am I supposed to say?** **He is not like me. He does not know.** So I settle for, “You were a dumb kid.”

    He only chuckles at my response and traces the pattern of sand on his shoe laces with his eyes. His voice breaks the silence, “It’s getting dark out. We should be heading out.” He stands and shakes the reminisce of sand from his shoes. “Come on, I’ll walk you home,” he offers his hand to help me stand, but I refuse. “It’s fine. I live close by anyway.”

    He shoves his hands into his pockets, “You sure?”

    I nod and give him a reassuring, half smile. He nods back in agreement and begs me goodbye, “Okay. See you at work tomorrow.” He waves. I return the gesture.

    I continue writing for another half hour until it becomes hard to see the words I’m jotting down. I look at my phone, it reads 9:00 p.m. **I should probably go, I** **didn’t tell Candi where I was going.** As I stand to leave I step on something soft. **That’s definitely not sand,** I think. I look down and find myself crushing Felix’s beanie. **How did he manage to lose something on his head?** I find myself opening up my journal to a blank page and scribbling down:

                                                                                                      PURPLE BEANIE 

                                                                                                     1. The seed swallower

    I stare at the page a while longer and crack a small smile. I place the beanie in between the pages to keep it safe. As the shop comes into view I can’t help but think, **Who swallows an avocado seed?**


	7. Welcome home, Bruno.

                                                                                                            *DANI'S P.O.V*

 

    “What’s wrong buddy?” I bent down to ruffle the dogs ears. **I don’t understand why people think pugs are ugly. They’re so cute.** I can’t help but notice the trembling of its legs and the visible shake that is surging through its small and cold body. **I can’t leave him here.**  I pick him up and walk into the shop. I am instantly met with bombarding comments and questions.

    Candi rushes over to me and begins to pat my face, shoulders and arms, completely oblivious to the dog that I held in my hands, “ _Ay Dios mio_! Where were you? I didn’t know who to call because I don’t have your number. Do you have a phone? It’s okay _mija_ I can buy you one. Are you okay? Why are you out so late? It’s dangerous at this time, you scared me.” She embraces me in a bone crushing hug.

    “Candi?” She lets go and pulls me away at arm's length. There is worry written in her eyes as she asks, “ _Que paso_? Is something wrong?’ (Translation: What happened?) I look down at the puppy that is between us, “You’re crushing Bruno.”

    For a split second, she stares at me with confusion, but then she follows my gaze. Afraid of her reaction, I quickly intercede, “I’m sorry. It was cold out and he was shaking. I couldn’t leave him out there, he would’ve frozen to death.” There’s a slight pause before she begins to speak.

    “Well then it’s a good thing you brought him inside.”

    It was my turn to be confused, “You’re not mad?”

    “Not mad just a bit,” she paused to conjure up the right word to say, “surprised.” “Besides,” she added, “we could use a little company.” “But,” she continued, “you have to be responsible to take him out for walks and I do not want to see his _cacitas_ everywhere.” (Translation: poop.)

    I violently nodded at her conditions. I ruffled Bruno’s ears, “Hear that Bruno, you have a new home.”

    “Okay, okay _vete a bañar_. Dinner is almost ready.” (Translation: Go shower.)

    I rushed to the room and bundled Bruno up in blankets. “I’ve gotta go shower okay? You can have dinner with Candi and I after,” I softly spoke to the pup in front of me. I gave him a light kiss and walked to the restroom.

                                                                                                           

                                                                                                                        ****

    “I noticed you really liked the r _opa vieja_ I made the other day, so I prepared it again.” Candi placed the plate in front of me.

    “It looks delicious.”

    “You still haven’t taken me up on that offer. When am I going to taste yours?”

    I lightly laughed, “Soon.”

    “Oh alright eat up. We don’t want the _carne_ to get too cold.” (Translation: beef.)

    It may sound weird, but I couldn’t help but stare at Candi as she ate her food. She was a messy eater; the chili was vaguely prominent on the sides of her mouth. **This woman has cared for me more than anyone.** I did not hesitate in extending my hand out and reaching for hers. She looked up from her plate and then back at my hand.

    “Thank you.” Her head shot up and her eyes met mine. I was met once again with the welcoming and warm smile from our first encounter.

     Her eyes twinkled when she asked, “For what?”

    “For worrying about me.” I squeezed her hand tighter. She placed her other hand on top of mine and squeezed it.

 

                                                                                                                    ****

    That night I lay in bed with Bruno next to me. I glanced over at Candi’s side of the room and thought, **This. The three of us. This is home**.


	8. Waffles & Baths.

                                                                                                          * DANI’S P.O.V*

 

  **You can do this. All you have to do is hand him the beanie and apologize**. I made my way over to Felix’s usual spot by the window; he was lost in thought. I say nothing but extend my arm out with the beanie on the other end. As if shaken from a daydream, he slightly shakes his head and blinks a couple times. He reaches for it and smiles as he pulls it down on his head.

    “I thought I lost it.”

    Awkward and uncomfortable without anything in my hands, I reach for the sunflower ring that sits around my middle finger. I shuffle my feet as I speak to him, face to face for once, “You dropped it at the beach so I picked it up; I thought you’d like it back.”

    My feet whip into a 360 once the words leave my mouth, but I stop in my tracks. **Don’t be a wuss. Apologize**. I face him once again, walking a bit closer this time. The words spill out of me like word vomit, “I didn’t mean to smack you, well technically I did, but that’s only because you scared the living shit out of me and literally anybody’s first instinct would be to react, maybe not in the way I did, but that’s not the point. How’s your nose by the way?”

    He chuckles, “I take it this is your way of apologizing?” I can only nod.

    He chuckles once more, “My nose is doing fine. My lip on the other hand, has seen better days.” My eyes widen as I inspect his top lip. There is in fact a slight purple tint to its upper corner. I part my lips to speak but he puts his hand out and says, “Its okay, really.” He perks one of his eyebrows up, “It looks kind of bad-ass don’t you think?”

    I look down at my shoes, feeling like utter crap at the damage I had done in one lousy smack to his face. “I’m really sorry,” I squeak out.

    He stands and I am met with his two hands forcefully resting on my shoulders. His eyes bore into mine as he speaks, “I’m fine, Dani. You are happily forgiven,” his stare lands on the line of customers at the register and back to me, “Looks like we have customers.” He squeezes my shoulders reassuringly. **Don’t do** **that** , I want to tell him. **It** **feels familiar; a familiar I dream to forget.** I stand there frozen until I am shaken out of my thoughts by Felix’s voice, “I need a little help here.” He is already behind the counter, struggling to scoop up the ice-cream all whilst attempting to take more orders. I rush to his side and in no time the line of customers is happily enjoying their desserts.

    “We make a pretty good team,” he says. I manage to let out a meek, “Yeah.” We awkwardly stare at each other for a few seconds when we hear a crash come from the back room. We rush over and find Bruno covered from head to toe in vanilla ice-cream and hot cocoa powder.

    “What the hell, Bruno. Look at the mess you made. Now I’ve gotta clean all of this up and on top of that give you a bath.” I continue talking to myself, “I must have left the door open.” I look into Bruno’s eyes and try my best to scold him, “Bad Bruno.” **He’s too cute. I can’t resist.** I plant a kiss on the top of his head and wipe the residue of ice-cream and cocoa on my apron.

    “Wait, you live here?” I snap my attention back to Felix. **No. He isn’t supposed to know.**

    “Uh yeah, Candi’s my... ” I trail off, not really sure what to make of my relationship with her. Like a gift sent from the universe, Candi appears from the door. Except there’s a mess surrounding us, Bruno’s covered in ice-cream that is now settling into his nose lines, and a very confused Felix stands in the midst of this. For the first time, Candi gives me a true stern look as she speaks, “She is the granddaughter that her parents promised would behave.” I mouth a silent thank you as Felix still remains utterly confused.

    “Granddaughter?”

    “Yeah. Yes! Candi is my grandma.”

    “Ohh,” was all he managed to say.

    “Clean this up. Now.” Candi points at Bruno, “And give poor Bruno a bath. That cocoa and ice-cream is not good for his nose.”

    Felix jumps into action, grabbing a mop and soaking up, but mostly slodging, around the mixture on the ground.

    “It’s okay. You don’t have to do that,” I tell him.

    “It’s no big deal. Take care of Bruno and I’ll clean this up.” I tried to protest but he shut me up before I could open my mouth, “Go,” was all he said.

 

                                                                                                                     ****

    Setting Bruno down in the empty bathtub was a mistake. A big mistake. As soon as I turned on the faucet the water went everywhere. He splashed it all over the bathroom tiles and myself. We didn’t have any shampoo specialized for dogs, so I used the bar soap that Candi uses to wash clothes. She had a whole stack of them so I figured it wouldn’t be a problem.

    “Sorry bud, but this is the only soap we’ve got,” I softly spoke to him. I made sure to carefully scratch the gunk out of his ears and wipe his nose carefully and thoroughly. I set the bar of soap down to do so. In a short moment’s notice, Bruno had the bar in between his teeth.

    I panicked, “nononono. Bruno spit that out. Spit it out!”

    Felix burst through the door, “Hey, do you need-” at the sight of me struggling to pry the soap out of Bruno’s mouth he leaped into action, “oh god, let me help you.” He tried the same thing I did, but of course Bruno didn’t listen and continued to gnaw on the soap.

    “I’ll be right back.” he exited the room and came back moments later with a piece of a waffle cone, “I think this will work.” He bent down on his knees and approached Bruno, “Drop it,” he commanded as he waved the piece of waffle cone in his face. To my relief, he did as told and quickly swallowed the waffle cone in Felix’s hand. He waved another piece in his face as he said, “Open.”

    “Hurry, wash his mouth out,” he ordered. I doused Bruno’s mouth in buckets of water, bits of waffle cone now swimming in the creamy water.

    “I’m guessing you’ve never had a dog before?”

    “Or any pet for that matter,” I responded.

    His eyes washed over my soaked figure and the unwashed pup sitting in the water, “Need any help?”

    I let out a sigh of exasperation, “Please.”

    “How hard can bathing a puppy be?” Clearly, he’d never given a dog a bath as moments later his shirt was soaked. The little pieces of waffle cone now clung to him.

    “You’ve never had a dog either, have you?”

    Bruno splashed him once more, the water landing in his eyes, “Nope!”

    In unison, our laughs bounce off the bathroom walls. **I guess he isn’t half bad after all.**


	9. scrapers & scars.

                                                                                                      * NARRATOR’S P.O.V*

 

    Distracted by the messy array of ink jotted in her journal, she fails to notice Felix standing with two cups of ice-cream in hand. He clears his throat and instantly Dani yanks the earphones out of their rightful spot.

    “This is your favourite, right?” He speaks with uncertainty. **He remembered** , was all that could process in her head. She nodded and accepted the cup.

    “I wasn’t sure if you liked the waffle cone so I just used a plastic cup, I hope that’s okay? Oh and I noticed you put a pistachio nut on top last time, so I added one too.” The boy seemed a bit jumpy and fumbled with some of his words, but a goofy smile was etched on his features nonetheless. Within seconds, his smile faded into a slight frown. “Shit I should have asked, shouldn’t I’ve? You probably didn’t grab your share because you didn’t want any. It’s okay if you don’t want it, I could eat it.” In a hushed tone he added, “Even though I’m not really a big fan of pistachio.” It appeared he was talking more to himself than he was to Dani.

    “nonono. I do want it, I just forgot. Thank you.” A few bites later, Dani broke the silence, “You really didn’t have to go through the trouble of scooping up ice-cream for me.”

    “No problem. I do it for strangers everyday, why not for you? Besides you looked a little gloomy all by yourself in the corner of the shop.”

    Immediately she responded with, “I’m not gloomy.”

    Felix rose his hands up, mocking surrender. “Why do you sit in the back of the shop anyway?”

    Like an impulse she retaliated, “I like being alone.” **No you don’t. Stop lying to yourself.** Sensing Felix’s sudden stiffness in posture she is quick to add, “It helps me concentrate," as she taps the pen against the half filled page. Dani can sense hesitation in his voice when he asks, “Can I see?” She’s never allowed anyone to look through her pages. More precisely, she’s never had anyone interested enough to pay attention. With shaking hands she hands him the journal. As he’s skimming the pages, mesmerized by each poem and photograph, she has her eyes fixed on his cup of ice-cream. It’s the same, strawberry ice-cream. She made a mental note to jot that down on the list later. **The list!** With a bit too much force she yanks the journal out of his hands, but she plays it off with a curt smile and stippled laugh. She breathes a sigh of relief as she closes it and sets it down on her lap. **That was close. Too close.**

    Felix is awestruck as he says, “Your writing, it’s beautiful and I didn’t know you could take such amazing photos.” Her cheeks were heating up. Needless to say, she was beyond flustered by the praises, although she would never admit it. “Thank you. It’s really nothing, I just-”

    “Write what you feel.”

    “Yeah.” She didn’t know where to look, definitely not at him, so she opted for the journal in her lap.

    “It’s not ‘nothing’ as you say; it’s wonderful.” She slowly fixed her eyes on him, slightly intimidated by his glowing smile.

    “Break’s over,” she blurted out, because what else was she supposed to say to get herself out of this situation. Felix knitted his eyebrows in confusion as he looked at the watch on his wrist, “No it’s not-”

    “Well yeah, it’s not,” her eyes darted around the shop searching for an excuse, “but…”

    He tilted his head forward, “But?”

    “But we … we have to churn the ice-cream!” She calmed her breathing and lowered her tone as she once again said, “Yes, we have to churn the ice-cream.” Felix took her sudden outburst as strange, but didn’t question it and followed her to the back room to churn the ice-cream and prep it for display.

 

                                                                                                                            ****

    Felix stood behind Dani, watching her failed attempts on turning the churning machine on. It was quite evident, Candela hadn’t taught her how to properly operate the hunk of metal before her.

    “Need a little help there?” He couldn’t help but chuckle as he asked so. He was sure she meant to be threatening with her hard glance and beady eyes, but he found it amusing and a bit endearing. Without saying a word, she faced the machine again unsure of where the on button was located. Felix stepped up and pressed the button on the wall behind the machine. He felt victorious over her as she crossed her arms and quietly spoke, “I knew that.”

    “Sure you did,” he countered.

    To avoid from melting in a puddle of embarrassment, she took long strides to the displays next to the register and called out to him, “We should probably wash the emptied buckets.”

    “Can do.” He smiled at her once more as he carried the buckets to the sink. “So which one do you want?” he asked. It was Dani’s turn to be confused. He tapped on the side of the bucket, “Of the buckets I mean?” Dani’s puzzled expression deepened as she asked, “Does it matter?” Felix flashed her a smile, “Nah, not really. I just like messing with you.”

    “Well in that case, I’ll take neither.” She spun her heel around but was stopped mid spin. “I’m kidding, come on I really need your help.”

     Who knew scrubbing a bucket would be so hard? As if wanting to strip the bucket of its non existent skin, Dani scrubbed with ferocity, “Why won’t this come off?”

    “Easy there tiger.” Felix stopped Dani in her actions and replaced her sponge with a scraper. “This is what we call a scraper,” he added sarcastically, “a scraper-”

    “I know what a scraper is!” she exclaimed.

    “Do you know how it works?” Dani crossed her arms, growing impatient with the blonde beside her, “Of course I do.” Too stubborn to ask how to use it, she remained in her position. Felix noticed and to make her sufferings worse he nonchalantly swayed back and forth, letting out a quiet whistle.

    “Okay fine! Show me.” Pleased with yet another insignificant, small yet grand victory, he proceeded to show her how to scrape the buckets. “First, you gotta turn on the faucet. Not cold water, but definitely not too hot; you don’t want to burn yourself.”

    None of his instructions mattered as she examined the reddish pink crescents in the midsection of his palms. Purely out of instinct, she stared at her own palms. And back at his. **Why does he have those scars?** They seemed fresh too. She was shaken from her thoughts as he finished explaining.

    “Got it?” She nodded too enthusiastically. **He probably noticed my staring.** And much to her hopes, he did not. He was too busy explaining fifty different ways a scraper could be used.

    Even as she took on the difficult task of scraping a heavily crusted bucket, she could not get the image of the crescents of red and pink out of her head. **But he looks so happy,** she thought. **His smile does not match the ache in his palms.**

                                                                                                                             

                                                                                                                          ****

    Despite Bruno’ s nagging at her bedside, she couldn’t help but think about Felix. She didn’t know the origin of his scars, but whether good or bad, she felt for him, for the boy whose smile glowed like gold.


	10. Battle of the Chew Toys

                                                                                                             *DANI’S P.O.V*

 

     Bruno sat between Felix and I, scratching furiously at his ear.

    “I think he has fleas,” he stated.

    “What? No he doesn’t!” I bring Bruno closer despite him being probably right. **I did pick him up off the street.**

    “Have you given him a bath since last time?”

     “Of course I have, I’m not a slob, but the only thing we have is bar soap.”

     “Yeah, I don’t think that’ll do for the major itch the lil’ guy has going on.” He points his eyes towards a scratching Bruno.

     I sigh and mutter under my breath, “You’re probably right.”

     His ears perk up and his sarcastic tone is evident as he clears his throat, “What? What was that?” I do my best to look menacing but it has no effect as he only leans closer with a hand cupping his ear. “Can you say that again?”

     I groan and exclaim, “I said you’re right!” a little too loudly. Loud enough to turn heads. **If only I could smack that goofy grin off his face.**

     “We can go to the pet store after your shift,” he gladly adds. I contemplate the idea but come to the realization that between the two of us, we have no idea where the pet store is or if we have one near us.

    “But I don’t know where the nearest pet store is,” I explain.

    “Have you ever heard of the internet?” he asks as he pulls out his phone. I bow my head down, “Right.”

    “Bruno can tag along too. Looks like he could use the walk,” he lightly chuckles.

    He’s not wrong. Between the diabetic amounts of whipped-cream and _ropa vieja_ Candi has fed him, he has gained a few pounds. Not to mention I’ve also had my faults with slipping him meat and an extra bowl of white rice in the middle of the night. **I am whipped for that dog.**

 

                                                                                                                        ****

      “Looks like we’re gonna have to take the tram,” Felix states as he continues scrolling for other options. “There goes your walk, buddy.” He bends down and scratches the spot behind Bruno’s ear.

    Luckily, as soon as we made it to the stop, the tram arrived. The whole experience was new to me. The smell, the conversations, those who had their earphones plugged in and those who were just plain crazy. I stiffen as I make eye contact with the man sitting across from us. His lips curl up into a smile. Friendly or not, my heart goes haywire. It must have looked like I’d seen a ghost, because Felix budges my arm and softly whispers into my ear. “What’s wrong?” I say nothing, but my eyes are set on the smiling man. He follows where they land and immediately shoots up. “Let’s move to the back.” He takes Bruno from my arms and firmly grips my wrist as I stand.

    I focus on the sensation his touch brings me. My attention is no longer on the creepy pervert five feet away from us, but on his grip. Panic rises in me and my heart beats faster. **What are you doing?** The fragile girl in me whispers with tears in her eyes, **please let go of me.** I harshly yank my wrist out of his hand and clutch it to my chest. **You’re safe** , it whispers as I make my way to the last two seats available in the back. Felix is close behind, dumbfounded about my reaction.

    “Hey,” he starts, “I’m sorr-”

    “It’s okay,” I cut him off. “I’m okay,” I whisper more to myself than to him. From the corner of my eye I can see he’s about to speak but he catches himself and shuts his mouth instead. Without a second thought, I plug in my earphones and allow the melody to soothe my heart and breathing. I close my eyes, forgetting about my location and the distinct conversation surrounding me, not once releasing my wrist from my chest.

 

                                                                                                                          ****

     My eyes startle open as my right earphone is plunged out of my ear. It’s Felix, with a hopeful sheen reflecting in his eyes.

    “Can I listen?”

    I shrug, “You’ve already got the earphone in your hand, don’t you?” His smile is light as he places the earpiece in. I can’t help but notice as his eyes go wide. The lights from the tram reflect on them making them appear to be tiny pools of chocolate fudge.

    “Is this what you listen to on your breaks?”

    I nod, “It helps me.”

    “To write?”

    “You could say that.” **It helps me breathe.**

    “Isn’t it beautiful? How the keys can just relax you? Especially the pieces by Debussy and Beethoven.”

    I faced him, shocked at how a teenage boy could have an interest in classical music. “How…?”

    His eyebrow quirked up, “How do I know?”

    I merely nodded as he let out a quiet laugh.

    “Gosh, Dani I’m not an airhead.”

    “Bull shit. No one in a ten mile radius would be able to distinguish between Beethoven and Debussy.” I think for a bit, “Not unless…” The realization sinks in. **Oh my** **god, he plays the piano.**

    “You play!?” The short outburst of noise that exits my lips catches the attention of the couple in front of us. He fiddles with his fingers. **Is he blushing?**

    He inhales and exhales, “Yeah.”

    “ ‘Yeah’ , that’s all you have to say? Felix,” at the mention of his name he perks up, “that’s amazing!”

    He shakes his head slowly, “I’m not that good.”

    “Good or not, it is still amazing. I wish I had that talent, but I was granted the gift of incredibly sucking.” I let out a soft laugh and he finds the courage to crack a smile. **I never took him as the classical musician type.** **I wonder what else he can do**. I find the courage to ask, “Can you sing?”

    His immediate answer is, “Oh god no! I’m- I’m terrible.”

    “So you’ve tried?” His cheeks heat up as he hesitantly nods his head. My lips part to ask another question, but he stands up, jittery and relieved as the tram comes to a stop.

    “Look we're here! Let’s go.” He turns with supersonic speed and bumps into the pole located in the center of the tram. **Looks like I’m not the only clumsy one.**

 

                                                                                                                          ****

     The five minute walk from the tram to the pet store was eerily quiet. It was as if we had switched characters. Felix's gaze was fascinated with the gums on the sidewalk, and every two seconds he would rub the nape of his neck. **Is he okay?** His ears were beet red and the apple of his cheeks were tinted a rosy pink. It was odd and strangely satisfying to see Felix flustered. I sealed my lips to keep his sanity and save the poor guy from any more suffering.

 

                                                                                                                         ****

    “What do we need?” Felix scanned the top and bottom shelf of the hygienic aisle.

   “Shampoo and food. That should do, right?” Those were the essentials. Why waste money on other unnecessary junk?

    He inspected the bottle of conditioner in his hand, “I don’t know dude, this advertisement is pretty convincing,” he began to read the label, “says here that it is hypoallergenic, whatever that means, and it should leave your dog’s hair with 'luscious shining hair'?”

    “But Bruno barely has any hair,” I argued.

    “It’s only eight dollars,” he countered.

    “Felix, we are not buying hair conditioner for a dog that barely has any just because it’s cheap. Shampoo, remember? We are here to buy shampoo.”

    “And food, right. We should probably get him something for those fleas too,” he added.

    Dumbfounded I asked, “Isn’t that what the shampoo is for?”

    “I don’t think that’s how it works.”

    “If you know so much, then what are you doing looking at bottles of conditioner?” I retort.

    “Hey! Don’t attack me,” he peered over his left shoulder and pointed in that direction, “If you want help, go ahead.”

    Much to my dismay, an employee was stocking up more bottles of conditioner to our left. **He looks miserable.** He seemed to be in his mid 40’s ; to say he looked unhappy would be an understatement. My feet were laced to the tiles underneath me, my body entering shock mode once the thought of speaking to another person was presented.

    “Oh hell no. I am not speaking to him,” I spit into Felix’s ear.

    “The poor guy seems harmless, go, he won’t bite.”

    “No way. You go.”

    “I’m not the one who wants to know. You go!” he spit back.

     We continued our back and forth for another two minutes, until we heard someone clearing their throat behind us. It was the miserable employee. His voice was monotone and lifeless.

    “You’re not discreet at all. What you need is in aisle four,” he walked back to his previous spot as he spoke again, “and next time, if you don’t want to speak to an employee, try not to be so loud.”

 

                                                                                                                           ****

    The employee was right. We were lucky enough to find a shampoo that combated fleas, in fact there was a whole row of them. They were on the top shelf so I had to tiptoe. To my right I could hear muffled laughter.

    “Do not make fun of the vertically challenged,” I snapped as I finally reached the bottle nearest to the ledge.

    He mocked innocence, “Me? I could never.”

    As I was lowering the bottle into the basket, I glared at him and lost balance of my footing. And down came the whole row. To make matters worse, I bumped the basket into the row in the middle and knocked those out like bowling pins. I am positive Felix’s laughter could be heard two aisles down.

    “Shut up! You walked right into a pole two feet away from you less than thirty minutes ago.” His laughter quickly receded and I frantically began to collect bottles in my hand and stocking them up in their rightful spots. Felix was quick to follow in spite of his teasing. “Two rows, wow, you really are clumsy. That’s gotta be like a new record."

    “Less talking and more helping. Hurry before they kick us out.”

 

                                                                                                                            ****

    Checking out would have been a much simpler task, if the chew toy bin had not been stationed at the end of the line. Felix had a whole collection picked out for Bruno within the first minute of us waiting. He wouldn't stop squeaking them in my ear.

    “Will you stop that!?”

    He squeaked yet another one and said, “Nope.”

    “I swear to god Felix if you -” Three more squeaks.

    “Give me that!” I yanked it out of his hand and contemplated whether I should chuck it at his head or be a civilized human being, but what fun would that be? He’s about to protest when I smash the rubber ducky on his head.

    “You are so on,” he exclaimed.

    The chew toy battle had commenced. Rubber ducky after rubber ducky, and occasionally a hamburger flew threw the air. The people in front of us were oblivious to the intense war manifesting behind their backs, even the cash register employees were blinded. Too busy to notice the customers in front of us had left, we continued our fight.

    “Are you going to buy those?” The second employee, who seemed to have the life sucked out of her, asked. **Are all the employees here this depressed?** She pointed at the pool of chew toys next to our feet.

    “Uh yeah. Actually we are.” Felix picked up as many chew toys as he could.

    “No we’re not!” I whisper screamed.

    “Bruno will love them. Trust me.” Seeing as there was no way of stopping him, since he was already setting down a mountain of them at the cash register I countered, “Fine, but you’re paying for them.”

 

                                                                                                                           ****

    Arriving at the shop was a hassle. There was nowhere to sit on the tram which left us no choice but to carry our purchases in our hands. Felix was on chew toy duty and of course I was left with the bag of dog food which weighed about forty pounds heavier than I did. Juggling the heavy bag over my shoulder and untangling the newly bought leash, now around Bruno’s neck, from the pole was not easy. The bag where the chew toys were in ripped, thanks to Felix’s bright idea of placing the two bottles of shampoo in the bag. This left us with two abnormally heavy bottles of shampoo to carry and a variation of different colored rubber ducky's to clutch in our hands. Felix had a hoodie on and so did I under my leather jacket. In an instant we found ourselves setting down the items in the middle of the sidewalk and stuffing rubber ducky's in our hoods and the pockets of our hoodies. We turned a couple heads as we walked down the street to the shop.

 

                                                                                                                          ****

    Walking into the bedroom Candi and I shared, I plopped myself on to the bed. Drifting off to sleep, my thoughts wandered to the pile of chew toys stashed in the corner of the room. **What the hell am I supposed to do with so many rubber ducky's?**


	11. Cool Ranch Doritos & Ramen.

                                                                                                          *NARRATOR’S P.O.V*

 

    “You hungry?” Felix asks with a hint of hope.

    Dani looks back to an exhausted Candela in the back room, churning yet another batch of _dulce de leche_.

    “I’m okay. It’s my turn to make dinner; Candi is drowning in exhaustion,” she speaks.

    “You look pretty tired yourself. Come on, I know this really good convenience store that sells ramen. We can buy some for Candela too.”

    Dani looked back once more at Candi and down at the camera dangling from her neck. She was hoping to snap pictures of the moon and the waves, but the offer was too good to deny. After all, she’s never tried ramen before. She’d seen cups of them at the grocery store but never had the courage to ask Candi to buy them. **She might get offended,** she thought, **or she might think I don't like her cooking**. She told Candi she would be back soon and would not fail to come back with noodles for her too.

    “Okay _mija, con cuidado_ ,” she said. Before they could step foot out the door she called for Felix, “Take care of her, _mijo._ ” (Translation: be careful.)

    Felix smiled fondly but was quick to walk out the door to avoid his cheeks from heating.

    “So how good is this ramen?” Dani asked with genuine curiosity.

    “Ten out of ten would recommend.” Dani’s eyes widened. **Was it really that good?** She couldn’t wait to try it; her mouth was watering as Felix described the different flavors. Spicy Beef was definitely on her must-try list; it was the package she had seen at the grocery store.

 

                                                                                                                              ****

    Upon arriving at the convenience store, Felix immediately gravitated towards the refrigerators in the back. He snatched two yogurts, the only taste that reminded him of home. His real home with his mom and dad.

    “I thought we were here to eat ramen,” Dani blurted.

     Felix shoved one of the yogurts into her hands, “Impatient much. I want you to try this first.”

    “What is it?”

    “Do you not know what yogurt is?”

    Dani examined the palm sized bottle quizzically, “This isn’t yogurt.”

    “Just drink it.” He found the liberty of poking in a straw as she continued to look at the foreign drink.

    “It’s good, I promise,” he reassured.

     Hesitantly she took a sip of the liquid in the tiny bottle. She was oddly surprised; the drink was good. She wasn’t used to yogurt tasting so thin and being so liquidy, but it still left her with the sweet and fruity flavor she loved. She stared at the language on the packaging; she couldn’t understand it let alone read the name on the label.

    “What is this?”

    “It’s awesome, isn’t it?”

    She nodded and attempted to decipher the unfamiliar characters in her hand.

    “It’s Korean,” he explained.

     He smiled at the intense gaze she washed over the bottle, her brows knotted.

    “It says Yakult,” he said as he traced his finger over the label.

    She muttered the name under her breath and mouthed it once more, silently, trying to perfect the pronunciation.

    “Which one do you want,” he asked as he raised various flavors of ramen. She had forgotten about the noodles she’d been craving with the newly found treat, one that would surely become her favorite.

    “Spicy Beef!” she exclaimed a little too eagerly.

    “Easy there,” he chuckled, “it’s not going anywhere.”

 

                                                                                                                           ****

    Waiting for the microwave to come to a stop was an eternity. At this point her stomach was rumbling, crying for solid food. Hearing the ding of the microwave was like a heavenly symphony sent from the universe. She hurriedly yanked the top off the cup and sniffed the spicy and juicy aroma that sprang from the noodles and the bits of meat that were floating in the water.

    “It smells so good,” she stated.

    “Here,” Felix held out chopsticks for her to use.

    Hungrily, she took them and stabbed it in the strings of noodles. And she did just that. Stab at the noodles to no avail.

    “Something is wrong with these chopsticks,” she impatiently added.

    “You sure it’s the chopsticks?”

    She threw daggers at him as she stared him down. He stifled a laugh and set his own cup down in attempts to help her.

    “First of all, you’re holding them too tight. Be loose with it, don’t worry they won’t run away.” He grabbed his own chopsticks to demonstrate as he continued, “now place one of the chopsticks in between your pointer finger and thumb.”

    **So far so good,** she thought. **This isn’t so hard.**

    “Bend these fingers like so,” he continued as he demonstrated for her, “now balance it on your ring finger.”

    She had gotten the first step down.

    “See? Not so hard,” he picked up his other chopstick, “now do exactly the same thing but rest it on your middle finger instead.”

    “Okay, I think I got it.”

    “Hold the second chopstick with your thumb, pointer, and middle finger a bit more tightly. Now open them. Use your index and middle finger to move it up and down.”

    She did so.

    “Perfect!”

    Despite how easy he made it seem and how feverishly fast he was engulfing his ramen she was puzzled as to why she could hardly maneuver the chopsticks when sticking them in the cup. She thrashed them around and to Felix’ s amusement, he watched as the few noodles she managed to grasp slip back into the cup as she was about to place them in her mouth.

    Annoyed and angry, she set the chopsticks down on the counter with a smack ringing through the store, “Do they not have any forks here?”

    Felix looked over her shoulder and held his chopsticks in the air for the middle aged man at the register to see. The man silently nodded and smiled, and hurried behind the beaded curtain into his living space. In an instant, he came back with a fork in hand.

    “You know the owner?” Dani asked bewildered.

     Felix nodded, “Yeah I come here often; it makes me feel,” he paused before finishing his thought, “like I am home.”

    There’s a brief silence before Dani builds the nerve to ask, “Do you miss it?”

    Unsure of how to respond, Felix stares at her quizzically.

    She continues, “Korea, I mean.”

    “It’s kind of hard to miss a place you’ve never visited.” His tone had an underlying hint of resentment.

    Dani, unsure on how to continue the conversation, remains silent, but Felix continues talking. “My parents worked, there just wasn’t anytime,” he lied. **We had plenty, it just ran out too soon,** he thought.

    He clears his throat, keeping the lump and the need of crying from growing. “What about you?” he turns the attention to Dani, “You kind of popped up out of nowhere.”

    “Cuba,” is the first thing her mouth lets out, “I’ve never visited my hometown; I was born in Miami.”

    “Working parents?”

    “Something like that.”

    Her expression falls; the glare in her eyes seem to soften as she twirls the last of her noodles. **Maybe we aren’t so different after all** , Felix thinks as he catches the hint of solitude swimming in her irises. Noticing the sudden change in ambient their small conversation has brought, he picks both of their finished ramen cups and throws them into the bin under the counter. He stands up with a jump and plasters a smile on his face.

    “I’m hungry.”

    “We just ate,” Dani states, shocked at how big his appetite could be.

    “Snacks!”

    His hand reaches for her wrist to guide her to the snacks, but immediately stops as he recalls the events in the tram- her panicked eyes, how tightly she held herself after yanking away from his grasp. He glues his hand back to his side, smiling warmly as he begins to walk, hoping she’d follow.

    As if having bit a fishing hook, she is railed in towards the chocolate bar aisle. Her eyes and fingers rest on the mint chocolate bar in front of her.

    “Who are you?” Felix asks with clear disgust in his expression.

    She raises her brow, “What? They’re good.”

    “You have awful taste.”

    Offended by his comment, she crosses her arms over her chest and taps her foot on the tiled floor. “Okay candy expert, which one do you like?”

    He reaches for the bar next to hers, “Simply the best, caramel.”

    “And I’m the one with terrible taste?” she asks equally disgusted by his choice.

    “Yes,” he spits out before sprinting to the next aisle.

    “Do you like marshmallows?” he cautiously asks.

    “They’re okay.”

    Content with her response he grabs a bag of mini marshmallows, “Perfect.”

    He has her walking in zig zags, scavenging through every nook and cranny of the store.

    “Can’t forget cool ranch doritos, can we?” he says as he picks a bag up before walking to the register.

    “Yes we can, they’re artificially flavored and taste nothing like real ranch.”

    Exaggeratedly, Felix places his right hand over his heart, “I am offended,” he says mouth agape.

    Rolling her eyes, she shoves him closer to the register, “Just pay already.”

    As his items are being scanned, she thinks back to the yogurts. **They _were_ really good; should I ask him if we could buy some?** Sheepishly, she tugs on his sleeve and mumbles, “Can we buy a packet of the yogurts? I’m sure Candi would like them too,” she partially lies. She did want Candi to try them, but she’d be lying to herself if she thought she was only asking for her.

    Felix nods, having a gut feeling that _she_ wanted them but used Candela as a cover up.

    “I’ll go get them,” he says as he motions at the owner to wait.

    On his way back to the register, he stopped by the chocolate bars and picked two mint chocolate. He didn’t think it was too much. **She might get hungry later.**

    “That’s not necessary,” she mentioned as he handed the sweets to the owner.

    “It’s okay; don’t act like you don’t want them.”

    She lowered her head in embarrassment. **I have been craving them recently,** she thought. He stifled a laugh at her cherry cheeks and payed for the snacks.

 

                                                                                                                           ****

    “That is disgusting. How can you eat that?” Dani’s eyes are about to bleed out by the sight before her. **Cool ranch doritos, marshmallows, and chocolate covered caramel? That’s gotta be like number one for grossest combinations on the planet. Ever.**

    Unfazed by her judgment, he chews on a dorito garnished with a tiny pink marshmallow and a chocolate bit with caramel oozing from its sides, “Like this,” he fires back at her comment.

    He extends the bag towards her, indicating his wish for her to try it.

    “You get the best of both worlds,” he says, “savory and sweet all in one bite.”

    She peered into the bag; it did not look promising. Reluctantly, she dug her hand in and made sure to get the “full experience” as Felix called it. One bite is all it took. One bite and she was… oddly surprised? **This isn’t half bad,** she thought.

    “Admit it, you love it,” Felix stated.

    She shrugged, not wanting to blow her cover, “It’s okay.”

  **I knew she would like it,** he thought as he victoriously danced inside his head.

    Dani reached for the bag of marshmallows and began shoving them into her mouth like a vacuum.

    “Shoot,” Felix says as he runs a couple feet in front of her. She catapults them into the air and is shocked as to how he could possibly catch all of the marshmallows in a row.

    “You’re like a magnet. For food.”

    He runs back to her, “You try.”

    She shakes her head hesitantly, “I don’t think so.”

    He urges her on, “ I’ll go easy on you.”

    Knowing he wouldn’t give up, she sighs and hands him the bag. To say the least, she sucked. Majorly.

    “This isn’t rocket science, Dani!”

    “Hey! I’m trying; you’re the one who wanted to do this anyway!”

    “One more, okay?”

    She nods, eyes set on the target. It launches and to her surprise and Felix’s, she catches it.

    “Did you see that? I totally just caught that!”

    Her small fists shake in excitement as she bounces up and down like a Pogo stick. Felix’s eyes soften at the sight of Dani, the girl who was awfully quiet and reserved, now belting from the top of her lungs that she had just caught a marshmallow with her mouth. **She should smile more often,** he thinks, **happiness looks good on her.**

    He points to the camera she has dangling around her neck, “ Uhh… were you going to take pictures?” **I should have noticed sooner.** He mentally scolds himself for not doing so.

    She nods.

    “Cool, where?”

    “Just the beach.”

    “We can go right now if you want.”

    With a smile plastered on her face, they make their way to the beach just in time for the sunset.

 

                                                                                                                           ****

    **She looks so concentrated.** He stares at the her squinting eyes and her figure on the sand in a rather uncomfortable position. Click! She takes the picture and smiles at the result. **These are going to look really good in my journal** , she thinks as she joins Felix. She plops down next to him, causing sand to leap onto Felix’s shorts. Click! Her camera captures an unprepared Felix.

    “Hey! I wasn’t ready!” he exclaims as he sets his bag of Doritos on his lap.

    She giggles, “Don’t care.”

    His heart somersaults at the sound that exits her lips. **She’s adorable.** He snaps himself out of his daze and gets camera ready. Dani snorts at his cringy peace sign, tightly shut eyes and pouty lips.

    “You look constipated,” she comments but snaps the picture anyway.

    “I’m expecting that picture to be developed tomorrow.”

    “You got it,” she smiles.

    They sit in silence as they finish eating the rest of the marshmallows. The Yakult is taunting her, whispering sweet nothings into her ears. **Drink me,** they seem to say. She caves and opens the packet of yogurts.

    Felix smirks, “I thought those were for Candela.”

    Her cheeks heat up as she gulps the drink in her hands. She squints her eyes at him as her redness continues to grow, **Cheeky bastard, he knew.**

 

                                                                                                                               ****

    On their way home, Felix drops Dani off at Fotofast.

    “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?” he offers.

    “It’s fine, really. You should go home; it’s getting late.”

    “Which is exactly why I should stay with you. Candela told me to take care of you remember? And that was an order.”

    She sighs, “Felix, I’m okay. Please go home, rest.”

    “Rest? Who needs that,” he bounces up and down and flings his arms around to prove his point, “see? Perfectly fine.”

    “The dark circles under your eyes say otherwise.”

    After some more back in forth, Dani finally convinces Felix to go home. ‘ I’ll be fine’ she said to him. She had to reassure him a couple hundred times before he could step foot outside.

   

                                                                                                                 ****

    Developing the photos was faster than she thought it would be and found Candela prepping for the next day.

    “ _Como te fue, mija_?” Candela asked upon seeing her. (Translation: how was it?) 

    “ _Bien._ I brought you your ramen and some yogurt for the both of us! Felix introduced it to me; did you know he was Korean?” Dani gushed.

    “My, my, my _y esa sonrisa_?” Candela teased. (Translation: what's up with that smile?)

    Dani playfully rolled her eyes and made her way to the kitchen to put the yogurts in the fridge and prepare Candela’s ramen. **Spicy beef, I’m sure she’ll love it,** she thought as she poured in the water.

    She let the ramen soften in the microwave, while she glued the photographs from earlier that day in her journal. She flipped through the pages and stopped at the bold letters PURPLE BEANIE. Carefully, she glued the photo of Felix's constipated face under the first thing she’d written. That’s why she was so persistent in rushing him home; she developed two copies of the same photo. One for him and one for her.


	12. Sprinkles & Strawberry Milk.

                                                                                                          *NARRATOR’ S P.O.V*

 

    In the distance he could see the wisps of curly hair flowing through the air. He approached her slowly, careful not to scare her, and repeat the events from their last encounter at the beach. To his relief, she was headphone free as he stood next to her. The knots in his shoulders and the clammy hands in his pockets made it that much harder to ask. **Why am I so nervous?** , he thought as his hand ferociously rubbed the back of his neck, as if to wipe him clean of his insecurities.

    “Want to come?” His voice faltered and fell flat as he finished.

    Her knitted brows gave away her confusion as she stopped writing and looked up at the pink cheeked boy who was too busy swirling patterns in the sand with his foot.

    He noticed her silence, but didn't bother to meet her gaze as he pointed towards the ferry ride, leading his head in its direction as well. “To the ferry, I mean,” he clarified with a clear of his throat.

    “Okay,” she responds normally. **What is up with him today?** , she thinks as they walk silently towards the dock.

 

                                                                                                                          ****

    **This was a mistake. A big mistake.** Her hands grip onto the railing with fear induced passion.

    “You go on these a lot, don’t you?” she asks. Looking over the boat made her vision go blurry and her head swirl. Felix let out a small laugh at the light shade of green that was coated on Dani’s face.

    “The girl who spends hours at the beach is afraid of the ocean?” he teases.

    With eyes tightly shut she grits through her teeth, “I stay on the sand for a reason.”

    “Let’s sit then,” he chuckled and added, “scaredy cat.”

    He releases his hands from the railing and offers his hand for Dani to take. “So you can keep your balance,” he notices her hesitation and can almost see her mind going in circles like clock work. He’s quick to add, “I don’t bite.”

    With a jerk of the waves, she’s quick to cling onto his wrists for dear life.

    As they sit on the bench nearest to the rails, she glues her hands to its side so tightly that her knuckles turn a ghostly shade of white.

    “This is terrible, why do you like it so much?” she asks truly curious.

    He grows interested in his fingers at the sound of the question. Twirling his fingers around, he contemplates on telling her about his dad, but decides not to. **It’s** **too soon** , he thinks. “I just do,” he lies.

    As the words fall from his mouth, the boat is jerked once again and Dani’s grip tightens. **She looks like she’s going to be sick.** He pulls out his phone and searches for quizzes online to distract her from the motion of the waves. He didn’t want her fear of the water to keep her from riding ferry rides more often. With him that is, but he would never let himself believe so.

    “Wanna know what kind of donut you are?” he asked as he clicked on the quiz.

    She faintly nodded, drained of energy, “Anything, I’ll do anything right now.”

    “Sweet or savory?” Felix began.

    “Savory.”

    “Tropical forest or snowy mountains?”

    “What does that have to do with donuts?”

    “Beats me, answer.”

    “Snowy mountains.”

    He was surprised by her choice, “Really? I thought you’d go for the forest.”

    She released her fingers from the bench, having found a sense of security as Felix kept talking. A small smile crept up on his face as he noticed.

    “I’ve never seen the snow,” she added.

     He took mental note of that.

    “Music! Pop, Indie, Rock, or other?” he continued asking.

    “Other, the rest are too noisy.”

    He nodded, understanding, and continued with the next question, “Sunset or sunrise?”

    “Sunset.”

    “Great choice. And the last question is elements: Fire? Water? Earth? Or Air?”

    “Earth.”

    His eyebrows flew upwards, “Interesting … you seem more of a fiery kind of girl.”

    He is met with the infamous Dani glare.

    “See? You got that whole I’m-gonna-murder-you look down.”

    “At least if I could control the earth, I’d be able to shovel pounds of dirt down your throat,” she fired back.

    He only shakes his head and faintly laughs as he reads her results before showing her.

    “You’re a glazed donut!”

    She sighs, “What can I say? I’m a plain Jane.”

    He ignores her comment and reads the description out loud, “You’re smart, talented, and have a sweet smile,” he mentally nods and agrees, “You’d rather lay low and spend your days at home; your warm personality welcomes many,” he smiles at her and leans in closer as he speaks, “Not such a plain Jane, if you ask me.”

    “Let me do you,” she quickly says, “but choose another quiz; that one was lame.”

     His smile grows ten times bigger as he hands her his phone, “Surprise me.”

    She scrolls for what seems like ages to Felix.

    “Can we guess what age you are?”

    Felix nods in agreement, “Easy.”

    “Pick an ice-cream topping: sprinkles, whipped cream, or hot fudge?”

    “Hands down, sprinkles.”

    “What milk is the best-” her sentence was cut short by his response.

    “Strawberry milk.”

    “I haven’t even listed the options.”

    “I don’t need to know when it’s a known fact that strawberry milk is the best,” he emphasizes his last words as he holds his arms out dramatically.

 **Strawberry** **milk isn’t even on here, you doofus,** she thinks. She clicks on chocolate milk, **close enough.**

    “Pick a chain restaurant to eat at: Cheesecake Factory, Chuck E cheese's or Olive Garden?”

    “What’s a Chuck E Cheese?” Felix asks with a scrunch of his nose.

    “What do you mean?” Dani asks equally confused, “They sell pizza, have games, a big scary mouse comes out to greet the kids.”

    Felix’s eyes brighten as a light bulb goes off in his head, “Oh! You mean Charlie Cheese's Pizza Playhouse?”

    Dani remains confused, “Err … sure?” She clicks on Chuck E Cheese’s, taking his reaction as an answer.

   “Next question,” she continues, “What Friends character are you?”

    “Joey, without a doubt.”

    “What’s Friends?” she asks intrigued by the name. 

    Felix is taken aback by her question. **Is she being serious?** “It’s only the best T.V sitcom of all time!” he half screams. The puzzled expression on Dani’s face was enough torture for Felix. “That’s it. We’re watching all ten seasons on Netflix.”

    “Ten seasons!? I am not-” she was cut off by his insistence. “You’re watching it.”

    She had no time to protest as he hollered for the next question to be asked.

    “Do you still live with your parents?”

    The atmosphere froze. Felix’s smile was gone in an instant, blown away by the avalanche that brushed over him. His tone is serious as he answers, “Yes.”

    Dani is unnerved at the sudden change in his attitude and is unsure on how to approach him. **What do I do? Should I even say anything and continue?** She decides to continue and melt the polar ice that sat between them.

     “Congratulations you’re six years old.”

     As if on cue, Felix’s smile is painted on. “It does not say that!”

    She shows him the screen and laughs out loud at his expression as he reads the description.

    “You chose strawberry milk and sprinkles,” she made sure to place emphasize on the ‘and’, “I can’t say I blame the quiz.”

    “I am insulted! Strawberry milk is simply the best and what even is ice-cream without sprinkles?”

    She giggles and shrugs, “Whatever you say.”

    “At least I’m not a glazed donut,” Felix shoots back, feeling salty.

    Dani was easily offended, “For your information, glazed donuts are delicious and a fan favorite,” she said while wagging her finger in his face.

   He scoffed but was betrayed by the burning smile on his face, “Whatever you say.”

 

                                                                                                                                   ****

    She fell face forward into her pillow and hugged the sides of the bed. **Finally. On land. In bed.** Her whole body was jelly, but she would be lying if she told herself she didn’t enjoy the day. She hid a smile into the crevice of her pillow as she remembered Felix’s reaction at the results of the quiz. **He’s such a dork.** She slid her journal from under the bed and flipped through the pages. She stopped at PURPLE BEANIE and scribbled down strawberry milk and strawberry ice-cream with a smile carved across her face.


	13. Netflix Marathon.

                                                                                                          *NARRATOR’S P.O.V*

 

    For the millionth time that evening, Dani swerved around Felix's proposal, like a skier on ice.

    “I really have to finish cleaning-” The words had barely any time to exit as Candela patted and scrunched her shoulders a little too tightly. It was accusing and teasing, whispering **What are you so afraid of?**

    “Go,” her voice was laced with sincerity and a tint of urge, “Enjoy yourself,” In seconds, the cleaning rag that Dani held with an excruciating grip was wrestled out of her fingers, “I’ll take it from here.” A wide smile plastered across Candela’s face as the two headed into the back room; she caught the scared puppy look in Dani’s eyes. **_Pobrecita_ ,** she thought, **she is a wreck.**

 

                                                                                                                             ****

    The couch's back to the kitchen, the light pink blanket thrown over the pillows, the coffee pot sitting on top of the stove, the watermelon designed cloth on the dining table- everything. Everything made Felix feel at home. It was alarming how fast his brain lit up and screamed, **Home!Home! This is your home!** His train of thought was cut short by an awkward Dani who was furiously rubbing her arm as she offered him dinner.

    “We have some left over from last night, if… if you want any.”

    Felix was quick to fall from his cloud at the mention of food, “Yes, I am starving.”

    “When are you not?” she shoots back.

    He glares at her as she walks to the fridge to unwrap the _ropa vieja_ and place it in the microwave.

    “Ha. Ha, very funny.”

    She turns around and scrunches her nose as she sticks her tongue out, “You know it’s true.”

    “Is not!”

    And just like that, any awkwardness or shyness that hid in Dani’s shoulders evaporated into thin air. Nothing brought them closer like their bantering and bickering.

 

                                                                                                                         ****

    Felix’s mouth was watering, salivating as the scent of the reheated _ropa vieja_ filled the air. “What is that,” he inquirried, “It smells delicious.”

    “It’s a staple from my hometown, _ropa vieja_.”

    “Cool, I’ve never tried Cuban food before.”

    He was elated, a thousand fireworks lit in the irises of his eyes as she set the plate of food down in front of him. “What did you say it was again?” he wondered.

    “ _Ropa vieja_ ,” she responded making sure to pronounce every syllable correctly. She listened with pure amusement as he tried to roll his r’s; it was cute and exciting how much effort he put into saying two simple words. As much as he wished to continue practicing his first Spanish words, he could not contain himself as he looked down at the shredded beef before him. He took a hefty mouthful and it instantaneously lit him ablaze. The roof of his mouth and his tongue were on fire. His ears were beet red and his eyes were beginning to water. Dani was confused and a bit concerned about the panting boy across from her.

    “Are you okay?” she eyed him quizzically.

    His head shook vigorously, “Water. I need water.”

    Dani was still confused. **Why would he need water? He barely took one bite**.

    In between pants and sucking in his breath he managed to speak, “Too spicy.”

  **He’s joking,** was the first thing she thought, but as he continued to pant like a heated dog in the summer time she jumped to the kitchen to stop him from ripping out his hair. She handed him a yakult first, which he chugged in one gulp. She then handed him the glass of water; he only drank half of it.

    He’s out of breath as he asks, “How can you eat that?”

    “One, I’m not a ninny and two I happen to like food that has flavor.” She stands to throw out the emptied yakult in the trash and place the now empty glass in the kitchen sink.

    “I’ll have you know that ramen is packed with punching flavor,” he retaliates.

    “Please, the spicy beef wasn't spicy at all. It was good, but it lacked the kick.” she said as she walked back into the living room with strawberry milk and two tiny boxes of Frosted flakes in her hands.

    She hands the strawberry milk carton to him and sits down next to him on the couch. He stares at the condensation rolling down the side of the carton and freezes. **She remembered** , is all he thinks. Sheepishly he fumbles with the milk carton as he lets out a mere squeak of a thanks.

    “You happy, you big baby?”

    His giggle seems to get caught in his throat as he nervously smiles,"Very.”

 

                                                                                                                          ****

    As soon as Felix had his hands on the T.V remote, that was the beginning of a six hour marathon of “Friends”. It was twelve a.m when they had finished watching the first season and yet Felix pleaded, “One more episode.”

    “My eyes are literally about to shut down and Candi and I have to wake up early tomorrow to buy ingredients for Sunday's special; we’re selling cookies, remember?”

    “Right,” he nods and suddenly thinks, “Why don’t you call Candela grandma? I’ve never heard you say it.”

    Her heart drops to the bottom of her stomach. **What the hell am I supposed to say,** she panics. “Uh... my parents!” she startles him by her outburst, “I mean they raised me like that; They say it’s a form of respect, so she’s okay! Really. With me calling her Candi. It’s… it’s kind of like our thing.”

    He only nods in response which scares Dani. **Oh god, he can probably tell I’m lying!**

    “Candela mentioned that your parents let you stay here,” he rubbed the back of his neck as he grew the courage to ask, “For how long?”

    “As long as I want,” she didn’t even skip a beat as she added, “This is my home now.”

    “Awesome!” He exclaimed a little too loudly. He lowered his voice partly to play it off cool and because Candi was in the next room sleeping. “I mean that’s- that’s great,” he coughed. There was an awkward pause before Felix broke the silence, “Well then, I should probably let you sleep, and tell Candi I’m sorry for the bother; I overstayed my welcome.”

    “Don’t worry, she sleeps likes a rock, once she’s out, she’s out like a light.” She bolts up off the couch and into the kitchen. She comes rushing out with a bag of Frosted Flakes boxes in hand. “Here take more cereal boxes. We have too many and Bruno always knocks them over and ends up eating the box.”

    His smile stretches from ear to ear, timidly hiding his gaze as their fingers brush against each other as he takes the bag from her.

    She walks him to the door of the shop and slowly waves him goodbye. **Say it Dani, just say it. What harm could a simple ‘goodnight’ do?** As she stood there contemplating whether or not to wish him a good night, Felix could see the nervous beads of sweat seeping through her hairline. He shook his head and chuckled, crescents forming where his eyes rested. Dani couldn’t help but notice a twinkle in his crescent moons; he shined brightly in the midst of the dark and vacant shop. Her breathing picked up and the pounding in her chest was worrisome. **What the hell is wrong with me?** she questioned.

    Her palpitations grew by the hundreds, a herd of horses galloping across her heart, as his lips parted. “Sweet dreams,” his voice was but a feather, floating in the distance between them, “Don’t let the bed bugs bite,” he winks.

    Dani can only respond with a lousy ‘yeah okay.’ but her inner voice is screaming, bouncing from wall to wall. Standing alone, watching him go with a bounce in his step, she melts in a puddle of confusion. **What is this? Why is my heart beating so hard?**  She heads back to the room but not without thinking of Felix. **He is such a dork.**

 

                                                                                                                *FELIX’S P.O.V*

 

    My phone reads 1:05 a.m. **Fuck.** I struggle with the key hole for a bit causing the keys to jingle through the empty, silent night. **Could I be any louder? Mum’s** **probably** **asleep; I hope she is**. The key turns and I am met with a dozen beer bottles on the counter and the T.V light illuminating the scowl across her face.

    “Where were you?” Her breath is just as pungent as her tone. **She’s just drunk;**   **don’t react**. I circle around her and place the bag on the counter.

    She speaks again, toxic spilling from her tongue, “Sleeping around with some slut, huh?”

    Her words cut through me, leaving yet another slit, another night, another dream where a little boy cries for his lost mother. **Stop it,** I want to whisper, **please** , but I grip onto nothing, onto the stuffy air that turns into nails meeting skin. She lingers, not caring for a response. The bag is snatched from the counter and ripped through with hunger.

    “What the fuck is this?” she spits. The box of cereal is shoved in my face. For once, she awaits the sound of my voice.

    “Cereal,” I whisper. My eyes are glued to the floor as the box hits my chest. It’s small and almost weightless, but the hit is a bullet and it hurts, god does it hurt.

    “Next time you’re out so late buy some goddamn real food.”

    She leaves the mess for me to clean up as she walks back to her spot in the couch, and I do. I clean up the mess just as I’ve always done. Quickly I pick up the dumped cereal boxes and stack them in the cupboards before the tears have time to race down my cheeks.

 

    I lay in bed that night, my eyes puffy and red from the countless failed attempts of stopping the tears. My throat was raw, bleeding from the muffled screaming into my pillow. The T.V was on; **she won't hear me** , I convince myself, but reality whispers, **she doesn't care** , so I cried and bled for wishes of the past. **I want him back, I need him. I want** **her back, I need her. Why can’t things go back to the way they were?** The whispers of the night flew through my bedroom window; its touch was enough for me. I slept in the cool embrace of the night, longing for any source of warmth.


	14. The re-birth.

                                                                                                         *NARRATOR’S P.O.V*

 

    Felix was up bright and early, despite his lack of sleep. His eyes were puffy and tinted pink and his voice was two octaves deeper from the screaming. His hands gripped the side of the bathroom sink. **You can do this,** he reminded himself, **you have to do this.** With that short and much needed pep talk he stepped out into the living room. His nose stung as he entered; there she was sprawled upon the couch with a pool of vomit on the coffee table. Tears pricked at his eyes but he blinked them away and rushed back into the bathroom. He scrubbed rapidly, throwing one cloth after the other into the dirty laundry basket. He spritzed the table with lemon scented detergent in an attempt to mask the putrid smell, to no avail as it reeked from years of the same routine. He couldn’t be late for work again, **I’ll worry about it** **when I come back.** With a second change of his clothes, he walked out the door without begging his mom goodbye.

 

                                                                                                                         ****

    Dani instantly sensed something off about Felix. For starters, he was early for work, 10:30 on the dot, but his smile was gone; he didn’t glow as bright when he walked through the door. As he walked behind the counter, he faintly smiled at her. **What’s up with him?** she thought, but as she observed longer her eyes lingered on the dark bags and the puffy red eyes. **He needs to stop overworking himself.** She assumed he didn’t get enough sleep last night due to the Netflix marathon. Although it was Felix’s job to clean out and fill up the ice-cream buckets first thing in the morning, she reached for them instead. She figured, why not help him?

    “What are you doing?” his voice caught Dani off guard; it sounded hollow and soar.

    “I’ve got it, you look tired.”

     He shook his head in denial, “Let me carry it, it’s heavy.”

    She wasn’t giving up, “It’s fine, I’m strong.”

    “No, you could seriously injure your back, you’re like half my size.”

    He grabs the bucket and tugs at it, only to be pulled in the opposite direction by Dani. A tug of war began and a bickering, back and forth, of ‘no let me do it’ rang through the newly opened shop.

    Irritated by his persistence she yelled, “Felix, stop!”

    He was taken aback by the tone in her voice. **She’s never talked to me in that way before.** He cowered back, the tears threatening to spill once again, but the sadness quickly transformed into anger and into the slam that shot through the air as his palm came in contact with the glass counter.

    He sounded like a beast as he bellowed, “I’m just trying to help! Why won’t you let me?”

    He wanted to continue yelling at the top of his lungs, until all the years of bottling up and stuffing his pain behind closets and drawers finally let up. He would never do that, not to Dani; those words were meant for his mother. All the walls were rebuilt the instant Felix hit the counter. The little girl inside curled up and crawled into a corner as Dani flinched back in panic. Her body became alert, talking to her, **He’s back;** they withered in fear. Immediate regret flooded Felix’s eyes. He extended his hand, reaching for the only companion in his life, for the only warmth he’d felt in so long, but she recoiled. She was back to square one, the little girl from four months ago again.

    “Don’t!” she stepped back and pointed her finger at him, creating a barrier between the two. Her eyes were watering, on the verge of tears, but her voice was knives and stone. She hastily undid the knots in her apron and ran to the back room. She threw it onto the rack by the door but missed and it fell to the ground just as she ran into the living room. Felix stood in the shop alone, staring at the fallen apron. **Fuck. I fucked up.** His brain was processing five hundred different ways to apologize, but he couldn’t find any that didn’t reveal the real reason behind his heated actions. **You can’t just leave her crying,** he thought. And with that he headed towards the back room and made sure to hang her apron back on the rack.

       

                                                                                                                        ****

    The bedroom door was closed indicating she had locked herself in. He hesitated before knocking on the door. **Her eyes** , he thought, **she looked at me as if I** **were a monster.** With all the courage he could muster, he knocked softly; he didn’t want to scare her, even more so than he had done already.

    “Dani,” he paused for a second; he could hear her sniffling, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to … I,” he trailed off unsure of what to say and how to say it, “Can you please let me in?” he finished.

    Even through the door she could hear the sincerity in his voice; it had returned to normal. She wiped the excess tears away and shuffled towards the door. She swung it open and revealed Felix gazing hopefully at her.

     “What do you want?” she let out.

    “Can I come in?” She rolled her eyes and opened the door wider for him to step in.

    As soon as she faced him again, his mouth started blabbering. “I’m sorr-” he was interrupted.

    “Stop apologizing.” He averted his gaze to the floor, awaiting a scolding to come from Dani’s end but instead she said, “Stop moping, you look ridiculous.”

    He was about to open his mouth again when she beat him to it, “Can we not talk about it? I’m tired.”

    Her lips fall into a thin line, a smile that’s not really there. Felix’s expression changes too because he sees the light in her eyes blow out and her eyebrows untangle from their usual knot of curiosity. He nods and promises to not say another word until she asks him to. He rests his head against her bed’s headboard and watches Dani’s eyes flutter shut as her head rests against his shoulder. **She looks so peaceful when she sleeps.** Felix doesn’t notice himself dozing off as he matches Dani’s breathing, lulled to sleep by the lullaby of her existence.

 

                                                                                                                             ****

    Felix is jolted out of his slumber by Dani’s sobbing. Her forehead, neck and chest were drenched in sweat. She was wailing, rubbing her arms with a force that could peel her skin off if she tried. She wished she could, only that way she could be pure and erase her tainted skin. Felix was panicking. The harder he tried calling her name, the further down her nightmare she fell. She was a blubbering mess, but he could hear the same phrase repeated over and over, like a broken record. “Please don’t hurt me.” It was but a whimper but enough for him to hear and snap their foreheads together. **You have to snap out of this Dani.**

    “It’s me, Felix. I’m here okay? I’m right here, just listen to my voice.” He continues talking, slowly reeling her back into reality with a few ‘ shh I’m right here’. Soon she was out of her dream state and pressed against Felix. Her eyes fluttered open and were met with a pair of darting eyes, examining every bit of her face. He breathed a sigh of relief and pressed their foreheads even closer, “I’m right here,” he whispered. **I’m safe,** is all she could process. The nightly visit, his sinful touches, none of it was real. She was safe, in Australia, with Candi, and with Felix. She dug herself into his chest and breathed in the sweet scent of sanctuary. She hid the tears as she cried again, gripping on to Felix as if he were to evaporate into thin air or worse disappear into a cloud of smoke as if to wake up from a dream. Her embrace hit him like a train, **something’s not right.** He held her. She could care less if her snarky demeanor was lost, she needed him. The way he rested his chin on the crown of her head and ran his fingers through her hair, was a reassurance that she wasn’t alone. Not anymore.

    Felix’s voice was soft against her hair, “You can talk to me or not talk to me, but I’m here.” His words are ice cold as she recalls the countless times she froze. **How could I let him do that to me?** All at once, a wave of shamefulness, disgust, and embarrassment washed over her; she couldn’t meet his eyes. **I can’t keep** **doing this, I can’t carry this with me forever**. As words filled the room, her body began to glow and chant to the beat of its heart, **Heal, you need to heal.**

    “Back in Florida ….” she pauses and starts over, “My mom,” she slightly pauses and takes a deep breath in, “I never met her, so it’s always been my dad and I,” The tears were rising, brimming to the top as she spoke, “and he… God, I was so stupid! I thought it was normal for a dad to treat his daughter like…” **like his** **sex toy** , “ I can’t erase it, I can’t erase his drunken nights,” she grows quiet and whispers in shame, “his nightly visits.”

    The rubbing of her arms intensified, her vision going blurry as the tears blinded her and turned her surroundings into misshapen blobs, “I am disgusting!”

    She is halted in her actions as he gently places his hands on her arms. Looking in her eyes, he could finally see the sadness and turmoil locked behind closed doors.

    “You are not stupid. You are not disgusting,” a tear runs down the apple of her cheek and is swiped away by the touch of his thumb,  And you are not any less worthy.” He pulls away from her and locks eyes with her, “  need you to understand that, okay?”

    She can only nod and hide her face in his chest once again. Like the wind blowing in her ear, he whispers, “You make Candela’s life better.” From the kitchen Bruno’s bark could be heard and he chuckled, “You make the little guy’s life better,” he whispers one last thing, barely audible and as light as the breeze between the trees, “You make me better.”

 

                                                                                                                             ****

    Dinner was an all you can eat buffet. Candela prepared **ropa vieja, maduros** , hot chocolate, brownies and cookies. **What’s with the all food?**  Dani thought, **she’s** **never made this much for dinner.**

    “You hungry?” Candela offered.

    “Candi, it is physically impossible for me to finish this, I’ll burst.”

    “ _Ay mija, que tonterias son esas_. Eat all you want.” (Translation: that's nonesense.)

    “You’ve never even made brownies before and _chocolate caliente_ is a breakfast food,” she eyed Candela down as she continued, “What’s this really about?”

    Candela’s smile disappeared as she sat across from Dani.

    “I heard you and Felix talking.”

    Dani’s heart dropped to the pit of her stomach. **She must not want me anymore.**

    “Why didn’t you tell me?” Candela hushes.

    “Because I was afraid,” Dani whispered.

    Candela stands up from her chair and holds Dani, tight, tight, tight. Tight enough to squeeze her sorrows out.

    “You’re safe now, it’s okay,” she plants a soft kiss on her temple, “  love you, _mija_.”

    Dani felt the same and nothing could ever compare, because she had a home, she was safe and had someone who loved her.


	15. Blue.

                                                                                                            *DANI’S P.O.V*

 

    The slap of Felix’s flip flops could be heard over my voice.

    “Felix, where are we going? We can’t leave the shop alone.”

     In a heartbeat he responds, like an actor reciting his lines, "It’s closed.”

     My lips part, about to retaliate, because the shop was not closed, having left it mid-work day. He quickly chimes in, “No buts, I ran it by Candela already.”

      **Really Candi?** is all I could think. Defeated I sigh, “Can you at least tell me where we’re going?”

    He stops in his tracks and flashes his infamous toothy grin. He sounds like a kid when he belts, “Swimming!”

    “But the nearest public pool is more than half an hour away,” I retort.

    The stupid smile on his face widens by the second. **Does he enjoy spending money on the tram?** The mischievousness reaches his eyes, and that’s when the realization sinks in. My eyes bulge out of their sockets. “Oh no,” I shake my head furiously, “Oh hell no!” I wag my finger at him as I continue, “I am not going in the water.” If I could, I would flick every one of his teeth off to erase that smug expression on his face.

    “It’s only the ocean!” he exclaims.

    “Exactly!” I yell back with the same intensity, “The ocean is scary and deep and filled with creatures. Did you know ninety-five percent of the ocean has been undiscovered? There could be a monstrous sea snake slithering around in there!”

    He rolls his eyes, “I doubt there’s such a thing.”

    “You don’t know that!”

    “Dani, it’s just water, I promise we’ll stay close to the shore.”

    “Nope, sorry I think I’ll go back to the shop and practice my people skills, besides I don’t have a swimsuit, so if you’ll excuse me…” I spin around on my heels but his grip on my wrist yanks me back.

    “You can wear my shirt; it’s long enough to reach your knees.” His puppy dog eyes throw daggers at my chest as I stand in silence. “Come on! There’s no perfectly good excuse for you to turn back,” he pleads.

    I take a deep breath in and let it out, slowly and coolly. **Fuck it, there’s no getting out of this one.** “Fine,” I grumble, “let’s go,” I rush past him and yell over my shoulder, “Hurry up before I change my mind.” He follows, scurrying along the paved ground like a puppy running to its owner.

 

                                                                                                                                ****

    He takes off his shirt with no hesitation. **I wish I was that comfortable with my body.** The bright sun hits his shoulders, illuminating the specks of freckles that litter them. They resemble crystals on a cave wall; they’re blinding but impossible not to look at. I avert my gaze as my cheeks begin to tint rose. He extends his shirt towards me and I take it, unable to meet his eyes. I stand with the sand between my toes, waiting for him to give me some privacy, but he stays put. I eye him down, bulging my eyes exaggeratedly. **Can he not take a hint?** His expression freezes over and his eyes mirror my own as he lets out an ‘oh!’ , rotating his body in a 360 motion. He turned so fast,  he could've dug himself in a hole.

    “Don’t turn around until I say so.” My voice is small against the ocean breeze and roaring ocean waves.

    “I won’t,” he states. **He better not.** The wind sticks knives into my bare stomach. It is the worst feeling. Feeling exposed. Tiny prickles flicker over my body and the intense feeling of a thousand eyes upon me settles. **How does Felix do this so easily?** Out of the corner of my eye, I can see the head of his shadow tilting sideways. My lips part quick, opening to let my voice break through. “I said no peeking!”

    He coughs nervously, rubbing the nape of his neck, and sputters out a lousy, “Sorry.” I can’t see his face, but I’m sure he’s as red as a tomato; his heated ears indicate I am right. His shirt droops around me. He was right; it reaches past my knees. My legs wobble, like a fish out of water, as I make my way towards him.

    “I’m ready,” my voice hitches. **You are so not ready.**

 

                                                                                                                       ****

    The water hungers for my feet as it engulfs me in an icy blanket. I jump back, stepping foot out of the water. “It’s cold," I whine.

    “Don’t be a baby,” he says as he pulls me in once again.

 **Toughen up, Dani**. I mentally prepare myself as I follow Felix, who is already farther ahead, waist deep in the waves. Slowly but steadily I keep walking. I am at arms length away from him when the water sweeps under me. My breath hitches and I feel the uncontrollable need to cry as I squeak out, “I can’t do this.” Concern floods Felix’s face as he swims over to me. He offers his hand and looks me in the eye as he speaks, “Yes you can, hold on to me.”

    I shake my head, my pigtails smacking my neck, “What if my hand slips?”

    He looks down at his hand and back at me, “I won’t let you fall.”

    I muster all the courage that I’ve got left and take his hand, squeezing tightly. I am certain that I cut his circulation off. We reach Felix’s previous spot, the water seeming to grow tired as it has stilled.

    “Okay?” Felix gazes into my eyes for reassurance and I nod. **Okay, this isn’t so bad, as long as we don’t go past this point.**

    “Let’s go a bit farther.” He turns his body to the endless horizon of blue, but I stop him, yanking on his wrist forcefully. I plead to him, not with words but with my eyes. “I won’t let you fall, remember?” he reassures me. We walk farther and I pray the water remains still.

 

                                                                                                                              ****

    The water reaches our chest. I imagine the water rising until it has swallowed me whole, and it causes my breathing to fall in uneven beats. The small waves that began to rock us do not help.

    “Hey, wanna learn a new trick?” His voice was barely enough to drown out the panic in my head. I nodded with fear lurking in my eyes. “Put your head back,” he instructed.

    “Are you crazy? I’ll drown! No, no way.”

    “You won’t; I’m right here.” His hand squeezes mine; it’s soothing. “Pull back as if you were to lay on my chest.” I do so and find myself looking at the sky. “You like the clouds?” he asks and I nod, “Good, focus on the clouds. Try forming animal shapes with them.”

    I scan the light blue above me and quickly find a cloud to focus on. Its fluffiness entices me to keep looking at it and soon enough my imagination takes over. Whiskers form from the wispiness at the ends of the cloud. Two pointy ears fluff up and beady cat like eyes stare down at me. I concentrate on the figure and let a small smile grace my lips; it reminds me of Felix.

    His voice snaps me back to reality, “Now extend your arms. Relax,” he continues to purr his instructions, “Keep looking at the clouds; lift your feet.” His breath is suddenly centimeters apart from my skin; it tickles my ear as he whispers, “Do you trust me?” Before my brain can process what he’s asking, my lips part willingly, eagerly. I say, “yes,” like honey dripping.

    His arms and hands are no longer on my back and I am one with the waves. My heart rate picks up, screaming, ‘danger!danger!danger!’ , but I withhold. **It’s just** **water** , **Dani, it can’t hurt you, unless you let it.** As I lay there, I can’t help but think, **this is kind of relaxing.**

    “I’m floating!” He reaches for me and keeps his arms on my back, securing the ocean doesn’t claim me for its own.

    “I knew you could do it.”

    His goofy grin glimmers in the sunlight ; I swear it blinds me for a second. His smile is contagious and I can’t help but smile back at the beaming tower of sunshine looming over me. My body dripped in warmth as I gazed into his eyes; it was safe and welcoming. It felt like home.

    “How about a little swimming?” he asked with the quirk of his eyebrow.

    “I think it’s best to take it one step at a time.”

    Felix chuckles and helps me stand upright. **It’ll be long before I step foot in the waters again.**

 

                                                                                                                   ****

    “So how’d you enjoy your first time in the water?” Felix asks hopefully.

    “It was oddly satisfying,” I respond. I wasn’t totally lying, but I was basically shitting my pants in the back of my mind.

    “Fearless yet?”

    “Definitely not, but I’ll think about taking you up on those swimming lessons.” I was only joking, but somewhere deep down, I was actually contemplating the offer. As soon as those words left my mouth, Felix began to sprout sentences from his mouth, like a water fountain spouting water. “Great! Sunset is the best time for swimming; the waves are less rocky. We can visit again tomorrow!”

    I hold my hands out and wag them at his face, snapping him out of his saltwater and ocean breeze daze. “Woah, woah surfer dude, I said I’d think about it.”

    He chuckled and rubbed his neck for what seemed like the billionth time that day. “Right, up to you.”

    I nod, “Get your tail out of a twist mer-boy; it’s time for work.”

 

                                                                                                                           ****

    The shop was closed by now; Candi had left to go buy tomorrow’s groceries. Bruno was tugging on my pajama bottoms as I strode into the kitchen where my phone sat. It kept ringing; I figured the caller would have given up by now. The screen reads, ‘No Caller ID’ , I pick up. “Hello?” There is only breathing on the other end; I try again, this time a bit more harsh. “If this is some kind of sick joke-” I am interrupted by the guttural, deep voice of a man.

    “Hey there sugar? Miss me?”

    The world seizes around me, my throat closing and my vision blurred by the tears slipping from my eyes. I fling the phone from my ear and with shaky fingers try to end the call. His voice booms through the speaker once more, this time firm and rough.

    “Don’t you dare hang up! I will find you. Sooner or later, but I will find you, and when I do it won’t be pretty.”

    There’s a click on the other end and I drop my phone to the floor. **He found me.** Bruno’s barks wake me from the shock. I scurry to pick up the phone and run out the shop door in a panicked frenzy. The cool wind hits me like a slap to the face. **Wake up stupid girl. This was never reality, you can’t outrun him.** My feet ache as the bare soles hit the pavement, stomping away, thinking if I ran fast enough, there would be no trace of me left. The wind would carry me with it and wish me away to a far away land. The soft sand is a relief to my sore feet as I reach the beach. I don’t think twice before I toss the phone with all the force I could conjure into the water. There was a couple sitting a few feet away from me; I probably looked crazy to them, but I did not care. **He can’t find me. Not now, not ever.**

                                                                                             

                                                                                                             *NARRATOR’S P.O.V*

 

    It’s been a week since Dani’s last encounter with her dad. Candela kept pestering her with buying her a new phone, but she refused. **What if he tracked me down** **again?** **What would I do then? I can’t keep throwing phones into the water.** She made up excuses-she didn’t need one, she was busy with the shop or taking care of Bruno. But she missed the sweet keys of the piano and the gliding of the pen across the emptied page. This did not go unnoticed by Felix. 

    “Did Beethoven and Debussy finally bore you?”

    Caught off guard she responded with a, “What?”

    “Your earbuds are nowhere in sight and your journal is closed,” he pointed at the sealed leather under her ice-cream cup.

    “Oh,” her mind flashes back to that day and shakes it off and smiles, “I lost my phone, I probably dropped it somewhere.”

 

                                                                                                                             ****

    On his way back home that night, he made a pit stop at the electronics store around the corner. He bought a purple mp3 player, only costing a mere thirty bucks. **She likes purple right?** At home, he spent hours transferring some of his favorite orchestral instrumentals. And piano pieces, which were her favorite. He also downloaded a couple of his original pieces. He’d felt insecure about them the moment he recorded them and played them back, but he was sure Dani would appreciate them. At least that's what he hoped. The clock was bright against his dark room; it read 2 a.m. It was late and he still had to wrap it. How could he just hand it to her? It needed to be a surprise, so he grabbed whatever colored paper he had stashed around in his closet and poorly wrapped it around the mp3. It looked terrible. In attempts to make it look presentable he decided to add a ribbon around it, except the ribbon wasn’t a ribbon, but a shoelace. He picked the whitest and cleanest of them all and tied it around her surprise -a bow sitting lousily on top. **That’s the best it’s gonna get.** He knocked out cold after, his bed undone and empty.

                                                                 

                                                                                                               *DANI’S P.O.V*

 

    “I have something for you,” Felix dug his hand in his apron and pulled out a crinkled, pastel pink, rectangular shape with a shoelace wrapped around it, “It was strange not seeing you tap your fingers along with the music, so I got you this.” He extends the object towards me, expecting me to take it. His eyes dance nervously, glancing up and down, and sideways and across from the gift he held in his hand. Sheepishly he adds,  I kind of suck at wrapping. Sorry.”

    I stand there, surprised as to why he would gift me something and curious as to what it is. I only look at it, but don’t accept it. He moves forward and places the badly wrapped object into my hands, folding them over on to it. His hands cup my own as he smiles warmly. His touch radiates through me, set ablaze to a fiery gold as his voice is the only thing that fills the empty shop. “Goodnight, Dani.”

    He is gone in an instant. His warm touch remains on my skin, and I can’t help but trace the place where his fingers lingered.

 

                                                                                                                         ****

    I did not sleep, but rather listened to the pieces Felix had so carefully hand selected for me. I couldn’t recognize some of them. They were different, but beautiful. I made sure to make a mental note to ask Felix in the morning.

 

    Morning came sooner than I anticipated and I bolted out of bed. Felix was early again, busy filling up the ice-cream tubs.

    “Hey,” I squeaked out.

    “Good morning.” He gleefully smiled.

    “I really liked the pieces you downloaded.”

     His eyes disappeared into crescents as he spoke, “I’m glad.”

    “But,” his head perked up and his shoulders tensed at the mention of the word, “there were a few I didn’t recognize. They had no name either.”

    The stiffness in his shoulders intensified. He stuttered a bit when asking, “Did you like them?”

    “They were my favorite, actually.”

    He only repeated the same phrase again, “I’m glad,” but his smile doubled in size and he began to whistle as he continued to prep the ice-cream for display.


	16. Cookies for the Soul.

                                                                                                                *DANI’S P.O.V*

 

    “I don’t think I’d be of much help,” Felix shuffles towards the door.

    “Felix, I am inviting you; you won’t be a bother,” I reassure him.

    The distance between him and the door is smaller now as he speaks, “I- I know. The thing is I don’t really know how to bake? Or- or cook; my diet consists of ramen and yakult.”

    “You’re kidding.” I blankly stare at him as he continues.

    “And occasionally some bread rolls from the bake shop a block away from my house.”

    **Like that’s any better.** “I’m surprised you’re not suffering from malnutrition.”

    He crosses his arms over his chest in defense mode. “What do you mean? Ramen has loads of multivitamins for the human body.”

    I mimic his posture and quirk my eyebrow, “Oh yeah? Like what?”

    His gaze turns into a fixed glance of concentration, until the light returns to his eyes, a light bulb turning on in his head. “Noodles are packed with vitamin C.” **Does this boy even read the packaging labels?**

“Last time I checked there was a big fat zero labeled next to Vitamin C.”

    His confidence leaks as he traces the tiles on the floor, with one hand glued to the base of his neck. His timid chuckle fills the room, “Is that so?” His hand reaches for the door, “Look, I really gotta go, I’ll make the baking process harder; my mom’s waiting for me at home anyway.”

  **He does have someone to go home to, I can’t keep him here forcefully.** I lightly nod and wave him goodbye. I watch as he places one foot out the door and my nerves jumble. The words are begging, pushing to crawl out. As he’s about to close the door I blurt out, “Goodnight!”

    He stops in his tracks and enters the shop once more. Gold seeps from his smile. I try my hardest to replicate it, but it doesn’t glisten the same as his. I can’t seem to get the curve of the lip exact, kept in the shadows and disgraced by the sun. His voice flows into my ears, a stream of iridescence and feather light words. “Goodnight, Dani. Sweet Dreams.” My heart has a mind of its own as it gallops around my chest. **You have found it, you have found it, you have found the light.**

 

                                                                                                                            ****

    The sound of salsa, rumba, and jazz infused the kitchen as Candi shook her hips to the rhythm of the music. “It is the beat of its heart, _nuestra linda Havana,_ ” she said. (Translation: our beautiful Havana.) It was a soft embrace, a swirling of color, a breath of welcome; it felt right. We rolled the batter into small balls and scattered them evenly across the tray.

    “They smell delicious, and they’re not even in the oven yet,” I commented. Candi’s expression grew softer, an invisible string releasing her tired brow. Her voice was quiet, sad almost.

    “My _papi_ and I used to make these together.” There was a slight pause before she continued, “No other baker sold them, but my _papi_ was special so he would call me into the kitchen every Saturday and I would help him measure the flour and cinnamon. He would even let me whip the batter; can you believe it, leaving a six year old in charge of the batter? That old man _estaba loco_!” (Translation: that old man was crazy!)

    I let out a breath of a laugh and listened tentatively as she told her story.

    “I dreamed of being like my _papi_ and carrying on the legacy of his shop. I wanted the whole world to enjoy the love and work he baked into his _pastelitos_ and _galleticas_. And so I left Cuba the day my _papi_ passed away to accomplish my dream, but he told me, with all the strength he had left, ‘I know you can do it, _mija_. I believe in you. _Te quiero más que a nadie_.’ ” (Translation: I love you most.)

    A tear slipped from her eye. I wiped it clean and held her hand.

    “Those words kept me going. When I missed home, I thought of him. When I struggled with the language, I thought of him. When I felt alone, I thought of him. But look at me now! I have my shop, the people love my _papi’s_ cookies, and now I’m here. Passing down this recipe to you.” She placed a kiss on my temple and whispered, “It was worth it.”

    The lump in my throat seemed to stretch to the airway of my lungs. I shook the tears from my eyes and finished placing the last of the dough onto the tray.

    “Tell me more,” I told her, “about _Havana_.”

    The room vibrated with energy and glee as she smiled. “ _Ay mija_ , it’s beautiful! The dances, the food,” her voice dropped two octaves as she finished, “the men.”

    “Candi!”

    “ _Ay_! What? You can’t expect me to tell you about Havana and leave out the men.”

    I laughed. “Tell me about the dances.”

    Candi raised her arms and let out an incredulously loud array of ‘ _Azucar_!’ as she shimmied around the kitchen.

    “Don’t even get me started! _Don Cangrejo, solo lo mejor de mi Havana._ ” (Translation: Mister Crab, only the best of my Havana.)

    **Mister Crab? What is that?**

    “A nightclub,” she added. I was shocked; I did not take Candi as someone who partied at nightclubs. She didn’t even go out at night to the grocery store; she was up bright and early to buy the necessities for us and the shop.

    “You used to go to nightclubs?”

    “ _Claro! Este cuerpesito nació para bailar_.” (Translation: Of course! This body was born to dance.)

    I am suddenly jolted out of my place next to the oven. She swings me around like a rag doll. **Too much spinning, too much.** Candi moves with expertise, swaying her hips. She urges me to try it. “Come on mija! Don’t be shy! _Sacude_!.” (Translation: Shake!)

    The music possesses her as she shakes with vigor. **How can she move like that and not pop a hip?** “Shake! Shake! Shake!” she repeats. I pretend I am her and shake my hips as fast as I can, but it only looks like I’m trying to swat a bug away with my butt.

    “I suck!” I exclaim over the loud music. She chuckles, vibrating the walls around us. She envelopes me in a hug. We stay like that for a while; I hug her tight. Tighter than most days. **I love her**.

    Her faint breath lands in my ear, “I’ll take you someday.” My brain doesn’t register what she’s saying at first, but my lips catch up before I do. A wide smile spreads across my face. “ **Te lo prometo** ,” she whispers. A promise too good to be true, but I believe her. (Translation: I promise you.)

    The timer beeps and snaps both of us from our daze. Candi’s voice is bright and lively, "But in the meantime, we’ve got cookies to sell!”

 

                                                                                           

                                                                                                            * NARRATOR’S P.O.V*

 

    “Where are you going?” Dani directs her full attention to Felix.

    His brows were furrowed in confusion as he stated quizzically, “Home?”

    She wagged her finger at him; a mischievous smile carved her face. “You’re not going anywhere.”

    The look on his face was one between puzzlement and fear. “Should I be scared or excited?” he further questioned.

    “That’s for you to decide.” She gave him no time to run as she gripped his wrist and lead him to the kitchen.

 

                                                                                                                       ****

    “This is what we’re doing?” He was a bit disappointed to say the least as Dani began preparing the pans on the stove and setting the ingredients on the counter top.

    “Yeah, what did you think we were going to do?” There was a tint of bubbling anger at the edge of her words.

     Felix’s eyes snap to the ground, suddenly aware of the not so family friendly thoughts that were racing along his mind. Dani examined the hand on the base of his neck, a nervous and flustered habit that she had learned to pick up on. **What the hell was he thinking?** He gulped as her laser beam eyes seared holes into the fabric of his shirt.

    “I don’t know. I- I thought that you would… I don’t know,” he fumbled with the end of his shirt, “ maybe… kiss me?”

    “Why would I do that?”

    “I don’t know! You were all smiley and when I asked if I should be scared or excited, you said it was up to me to decide.”

    “And that’s what you thought?” Her raised voice was even more searing than her death glare.

    “But-but thank god you didn’t. That would’ve been weird and,” he racked his brain for more words but the only one that came to mind was, “… yeah weird.”

    He didn’t mean to hurt her feelings, he just didn’t want to look like a pervert and a total jackass in front of her. She was somewhat relieved but a part of her wondered what it would be like to kiss someone, to kiss him. His words plucked a string in her heart.

    “Right,” she cleared her throat, “I’m gonna teach you how to cook.”

     Felix nodded, wanting to dissipate into nothing as he made his way over to the stove. **It can’t get any more awkward than this.**

 

                                                                                                                          ****

    “Do you know how to fry an egg?” Dani asked as she set the flames on low.

    Felix shook his head.

    “Wow, okay. Let’s start from the basics then. Pour oil into this pan,” she pointed to it and handed him the bottle of olive oil. She gave him no further instructions and left him on his own as she dug through the fridge for more ingredients. **How many recipes are we making?** he thought. Clueless, he poured a third of the bottle in the pan. **That should be enough.**

    “Are you really this stupid?” She poured most of the oil back in the bottle and set it back on the flame. “Crack it,” before she hands him the egg she says, “without any egg shell in the pan.”

     With the pan hot and sizzling, he was afraid to crack the egg onto the pan. He hit it against the pan, held it high like an offering to the gods, and let it slap onto the pan. The oil jumped and burned the hairs on his arm; he let out a yelp.

    “Are you serious? Never let the egg hit the pan from that altitude; you’ll burn yourself. I thought you had more common sense. Let me flip the egg, you’ll probably burn yourself doing that too.” She grips onto the pan, but Felix wraps his hand around it too.

    “No, you’re supposed to teach me, remember?”

    Dani raised her arms up in defeat, “Fine, melt your flesh off for all I care.”

    He wasn’t going to deny it, he was alarmingly nervous to flip the egg. What if it slipped out? What if it flew in the air and landed on his head? Or worse what if it landed on Dani’s head? **She’d be super pissed.** As quick as the egg flew in the air, it landed right back on the pan. His excited laughter ruptured the silence.

    “Did you see that! I totally just Gordon Ramsey’d that egg.”

    “Calm down, Mr. I don’t know how much oil to put in the pan,” she retorted.

    “Hey! This cooking thing, I think I got it down,” he snaps his fingers looking smug as ever.

    The smug expression is wiped off his face as she pats him on the shoulder and says, “Stick to ramen.” The pout on his face indicates the offense taken. “I’m kidding,” she laughs, “can you not take a joke?”

    “Says little Ms.Uptight.” Dani’s pigtails whipped around as she turned her head with hawk like speed.

    “I am not uptight!” Her hands turned into small fists beside her.

    “I literally have to drag you out of the shop,” he counters. He did have a point, a good one for that matter, but she would never admit it.

    “Shut up. You burnt your egg.”

    He glanced over his shoulder and indeed the egg was crusty and crispy around the edges. **So much for _teaching_ him how to cook.**


	17. Merry Christmas.

                                                                                                              *DANI’S P.O.V*

 

    I sat on the stool, hands resting on my cheeks, lost in a daze. I watched the trees outside, naked with invisible leaves blowing through the wind. It’s been six months, and that day on the beach in search for hope and a place to call home still lingers in my mind. I set my hands on the cool counter and let it’s freshness sink into my fingers. This is safe. This is happiness. Felix breaks me out of my bubble with the loud grunt he lets fall from his lips. I rush over in attempts to save him from his lack of upper body strength.

    “Step aside weakling,” I command over his shoulder. Defeated and with what I can see as humiliation on his face, he steps aside to let me do the heavy lifting.

    “You-you’ve got a good grip,” he nervously stumbles with his words, rubbing the base of his neck.

     I only laugh and crack a smile. Felix’s eyes begin to wander across the shop.

    “Do you need any more help? I could wipe down the tables if you want.”

    My eyes wander to the rag and spray in my hands. “No it’s fine. Cani and I are good, you can go home.”

    Felix grows tense as I say those words. His eyes slap to the floor, his hands suddenly sewn into the pockets of his shorts, and his foot swinging across the floor playing with an invisible marble. His voice is lower than usual as he asks, “Do you guys mind if I join you?” As I’m about to accept his proposal, panic flashes in his irises, immediately interjecting with, “My mom’s on a business trip.”

    From behind me, Candi tackles him into a warm embrace, “There’s always room for one more.” Felix’s body drains into a puddle of relief, his smile gracing his features once again.

    “If you had let me speak you’d know the answer was yes,” I poke at him. Bruno barks from the other room, Felix’s ears perking up at the sound of his cries. “I’m sure Bruno would love to see you; he’s missed you.” Felix’s smile stretches from ear to ear as he follows Candi and I to the back room.

 

                                                                                                                         ****

    Candi ushers us into the kitchen with a curt shove on the small of our backs. She’s on us, a hawk overlooking its prey, as we prepare our assigned dishes. I’m in charge of the _cazuela de plátanos_ and Felix, with his poor kitchen skills is assigned the easiest task: hot chocolate. I walk over to his side with a plan in mind. What good would Christmas be without a little fun? I lean in close by his ear and make sure to catch him off guard just as he’s cutting the chocolate block.

    “Hot chocolate’s kind of hard to mess up so…” I drag it out to tick him off and it works as he shoots me the dirtiest look I’ve seen splattered on his face.

    “Fine. I won’t give you any.” He whips his head around and sticks his nose up into the air, a slight pout evident on his lips.

    “Focus.” Candi sternly shoots us a glance and carries on with her dish. Before Felix gets back to business I make sure to stick my tongue out at him.

 

                                                                                                                         ****

    I stop wiping the counter down of the residue left from the the _plátanos_ and observe Felix from the corner of my eye. I swiftly move my rag here and there, careful not to get his attention. He pours the milk into the pot and my eyes land on the perfectly round block of chocolate. **He hasn’t cut it yet?** I watch him struggle and go through multiple feet positioning and arm postures in attempts to cut a chunk of chocolate. He lets out a sigh and abandons the knife with a clank. Seconds after, he is banging the chocolate on the edge of the counter, desperate to break off a small bit.

    “Why won’t this break! What is this? Cement?” he exasperatedly spits.

    “Having trouble over there?”

    He doesn’t miss a beat in saying, “Shut it, Dani.”

    I can’t hold it in and I let out a laugh, hearty and full. It felt good. Candi rushes over to his aid at the sound of my laughter. She grabs for the knife he had so angrily set down on the counter and places it in his hands. She shows him how to handle the knife and mimics the motion of cutting.

    “Try this,” she says. He sticks the knife into the chocolate, but goes no further than that. He’s putting in all his strength as the slowly forming beads of sweat glisten on his forehead. “ _Con ganas!_ Use your muscles, _mijo_.”

    “What muscles?” I snort.

     Felix lets the knife go as he faces me clearly annoyed. “Do you hate me?” There’s a hint of puppy-like sadness lurking in his question.

     To poke more fun at him I respond with, “Only a little.” His gaze falls, his frown exuding gloomy puppy vibes.

     Candi smacks the wooden spoon on my arm, “ _Ya! Dani, basta_ ; you’re distracting him.” She turns her attention back to Felix and takes the knife from him. “Like this, _mira_.” In one clean cut she slices a chunk of chocolate and plops it into the pot. “Once it’s melted add the cinnamon, break it in half,” she hands him the cinnamon sticks, “Stir so it melts faster.” His eyes dance back and forth as he watches Candi do the work for him. He reminds me of a kitten. He takes the cinnamon sticks in his hands and stirs the chocolate with his other hand. I keep my eye on him; I can’t wait to see how he messes this up.

 

                                                                                                                            ****

    The _Cazuela de plátanos_ were neatly placed beside the _Ropa Vieja_ and the Cuban sandwiches that Candi put together last minute for the sake of Felix’s taste buds. Everything was set on the table except for one thing: Felix’s hot chocolate. I look over my shoulder and I see Felix furiously moving his arm in circles.

    “Why isn’t this melting?”

    I get up from the table ready to help him this time. Instantly, I notice there are no flames coming from the stove. **This idiot really forgot to turn the heat on.** I wait for the click click sound to release my hand from the knob.

    “Have you tried turning the heat on?”

     Felix stares at the flames that now touch the bottom of the pot before letting out the quietest, “oh.”

    “Come eat,” I pat his shoulder and chuckle blowing out the flames, “We can make it later.”

 

                                                                                                                          ****

    Stomachs satisfied and full Felix and I head back into the kitchen.

    “That cooking lesson was a waste, I see,” I comment.

    “You taught me how to fry an egg, not make hot chocolate,” he fires back.

    “Hot chocolate is easier than frying an egg.”

    “Is not!”

    “Okay, whatever,” I wave him off focusing on the task at hand. I hand him the cinnamon sticks. “Break it and dump it in.” The crack of the sticks breaks the silence and fragrances the kitchen with a sweet and tangy scent. Some of it poofs into Felix’s face, gathering onto the already cinnamon colored freckles on his cheeks.

    “Why do you add cinnamon?”

    “It tastes better. Trust me.” As he breaks the last of the cinnamon sticks, I wonder about his mom. **Why would she leave her son alone on Christmas eve?**

    “Where did your mom go on her business trip? You’ve never told me what she does.”

     Felix’s lips seal tight into a fine line, his eyes searching for something in the pot of hot chocolate. “She-she’s in Canada. For fashion. I mean she has a clothing brand that she’s advertising. Coats, jackets, winter stuff.”

    “Oh. I never pictured your mom as a business woman.” **Or as someone who would leave their kid behind on a holiday.**

    “Yeah she’s pretty busy all the time.” His stirring slowed down. Peeking through the corners of his eyes is a feeling. A sensation, an emotion I recognize as loneliness. “I guess I just didn’t want to be alone this Christmas,” he finishes.

    **This Christmas? She's missed more than one?** But I stop myself from delving deeper. He probably doesn’t want to talk about it. Instead, I pick a mug from the cabinet and pour the hot chocolate into it. I add the finishing touch- a cinnamon stick on the side and hand it to him.

    “You’re always welcome.” **I never want you to feel lonely.**

    “That’s right, _mijo! Esta es tu casa_.” Candi squeezes him tight before letting out, “Come on, it’s present time!”

    With the swoop of her arm, we are hurried into the living room.

 

                                                                                                                     ****

    “ _Toma, mijo_.” Candi hands him the box that I had carefully wrapped with snowflakes and cats printed on it; It reminded me of him. He sits there, stunned. His mouth forms a small O as his hands brush against the wrapping paper. “Go on. Open it,” Candi pries. She has a wide smile on her face as she watches Felix tear the paper.

    His immediate reaction to the jacket in the box is, “I can’t accept this.”

    “Of course you can. Think of it as a payback for all that you do at the shop.”

    “Thank you.” He embraces her in a hug.

    Before I chicken out, I run to the room and pull out my present from under the bed. I hand it to him, making no eye contact. “I got you something too,” I fumble.

    “You didn’t have to.”

    I cut him off by shoving the present closer to him, inching it into his hands. “For the mp3 player.”

    His fingers fight against each other, bumping into one another as he scrambles to unwrap the music sheet within the wrapping paper. He gawks at it in awe.

    “It’s Debussy’s Clair De Lune. I found it at a vintage shop, I- I thought you might like it, you know to practice,” I fiddle with the ring on my finger, “ It’s a bit stained, coffee I think? But-”

    His voice cuts mine short as he says, “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

    I continue to play with the ring of my finger, afraid to look up and sink into the sweet of his ambered pools.

 

                                                                                                                 ****

    It was close to one o’clock when Felix rose from his spot on the couch. “Thank you for letting me stay here, Candela. Merry Christmas.”

    “Of course, Merry Christmas _mijo_. _Que Dios te bendiga._ ” (Translation: God Bless you.)

    I walk him to the front door and soon it is just the two of us.

    “I have something for you,” he digs into his pocket and pulls out a blue velvet box, “I didn’t want to give it to you in front of Candela not having a present for her too. I didn’t want to make her feel bad.” He places the box into my hands. “Open it.”

    Gingerly, I lift the top not wanting to break the lovely blue. I am met with a beautiful silver necklace. I notice the pendant dangling at the bottom. **It looks** **familiar,** I thought. It soon dawns on me, it is the same sunflower pendant on my ring. It has the same intricate detailing, even the same loop of the stem at the base of the flower.

     My lack of response panics him, “I-I didn’t know if you liked gold or silver but I chose silver because I thought you might like a matching set. I can return it if you-” I stop him before he can say anything else.

    “I love it.” My fingers stumble, dancing to the same drunk song Felix’s fingers danced to as they opened his gift. With shaking hands, I extend the necklace towards him. “Put it on for me?”

    He is jolted out of his daze and he wipes his clammy hands on his shorts. “Yeah, yes of course!”

    Our faces were centimeters apart. I could feel Felix’s uneven breaths as he struggled with clasping the necklace on. He stepped back and exhaled a short breath.

    “It-it looks nice on you. Pretty.”

    My heart stopped beating and my mind froze. **Pretty?** Felix’s wide eyes mirror my own as he speeds for the door.

    “I should get going.”

    Whatever encouraged me to do so, tugged at the ends of his sweater. “Felix, wait.” The words that were about to leave my lips are soon forgotten as his eyes bore into mine. “Merry Christmas,” I lamely squeak out, “Wish your mom a Merry Christmas on my part too.”

    One quick nod and he is out the door.

    I think back to what he said earlier. Pretty. **He thinks I’m pretty?** All night the thought wouldn’t leave my mind. I repeated the word over and over until my mind shut me up and lulled me to sleep.

 

                                                                                                                    *FELIX’S P.O.V*

    I slide the key in and slowly twist the knob to the front door. **I don’t want to wake her.** She’s sprawled on the couch, the T.V still on. I rush to the room and come back with a spare blanket in hand. I wrap it around her and fix the stray hairs that have stuck to the sweat on her forehead. **She looks tired.Even in her sleep.** I hold her for a minute pretending to be a little boy in the sleeping arms of his mother. Before going to bed, I kiss her forehead and whisper against the dead of night, “Merry Christmas, Mum.”


	18. Sweet as Snow.

                                                                                                             *DANI’S P.O.V*

 

    The ring of the bell still brought an uneasy feeling to the pit of my stomach. One would think after a couple months of experience, my nerves would settle, but unfortunately that was not the case. I halt in my actions and stuff the cleaning rag in the pocket of my apron, half walking half skipping to attend the young man at the counter. I didn’t even get to ask for his order when he so abruptly quirks up and asks, “Is Felix around?”

    I squint my eyes, observing the stranger before me. Felix has never mentioned any friends. **Who is this guy?** Curt and serious I say, “He’s not here at the moment.” Landing his eyes on the ice-cream flies all thoughts of Felix out of his head as he asks, “What kind of flavors do you have?”

  **Is this dude for real?** **The flavors are labeled on the display.** Before I could snark back I stop myself. **Breathe Dani, twenty seconds remember? Remember what Felix taught you.** _‘ Deep inhale and exhale. Anger out.’_ he would say. I pictured him behind the dude at the counter, inhaling and exhaling with me. I recollect myself and hand him the menu with a painfully fake smile plastered on my face. He took one millisecond of a glance at it, and with a dorkish smile on his face said, “Nice. I’ll have _dulce de leche._ ” If only he had bothered to take a thorough look at the menu and the display in front of him, he would have saved me the mild irritation that was now building up.

    “Sorry we’re out,” I let out through gritted teeth.

    “How is that possible? It says here it’s a best-seller,” he hits the menu with his finger as he speaks. I tap my finger nail with a harsh clank against the glass pointing at the “ Out of stock” sign next to the _dulce de leche_ bucket. Not even bothering to look up at me he asks for the most ridiculous flavor. “Alright then can I have a waffle cone with black sesame?” I mentally apologize to Felix before yanking the menu out of the guy’s hands and with clear annoyance snark, “We don’t carry that flavor. Sorry.”

    I was expecting a remark, an angry client barking profanities at me for the worst customer service, but I am met with a cocky smirk and a hand extended towards me. “You must be Dani. Chris. Nice to meet you.” My heart seizes up, but before I could yell, punch or kick him, he grips onto my hand and yanks me forwards. He whispers in my ear, “Are you always this friendly with your customers?”

    I hear the bell ring again and I’m flooded with relief at the sight of Felix’s mop of blonde hair. I wrestle my hand out of Chris’s grip ready to scream at Felix to call the police when his face lights up and they tackle each other in a hug. I am in awe as the two cling onto each other like two vineyards on a wall. Felix lets go and motions over to me. “Have you met Dani?” he asks.

    He stupidly cocks his head to the side and smiles, teeth showing. “Yes. I have.”

    “Awesome! Let’s go.” Felix grabs my hand but I pull back.

    “What? I’m not going anywhere,” I walk back to the tables I was cleaning before I had the displeasure to meet Chris. I wipe away as I continue, “There’s a lot of work to get done here.” Felix forces the rag out of my hands and throws it somewhere behind the counter. “Tell that to the empty shop. Come on.” I hear the bell ring for the third time this morning. I look up to see Chris getting in a grey jeep parked outside of the shop.

    “It’ll be fun. I promise,” Felix pleads.

    “But Candi-”

    “Already ran it by her.”

 **He really isn’t leaving me any other choice is he?** I inhale sharply and exhale blowing out all my worries. I nod and take off my apron. He is beaming as we make our way to the car. On the other hand, my body is rigid, the nerves on my shoulders are in knots. He squeezes them softly, reassuring me of the mistake I’ve just made and blows into my ear, “Don’t be so tense. Live a little.”

    **Easy for you to say,** I think as I open the back door of Chris’s overly masculine jeep.

 

                                                                                                              *NARRATOR’S P.O.V*

 

    The car ride was spent with Felix and Chris catching up which she was grateful for. That meant less awkward conversations for her. They had been in the car for seven hours, the sun far set behind the mountains. Dani dozed off just as Chris was about to play his new demos for Felix.

 

                                                                                                               *DANI’S P.O.V*

 

    I wake to the cold wind blowing in my face. Sure enough, Chris has his window rolled down completely. **Is he cold-blooded or something?** We make eye contact in the rear view mirror and I avert my gaze to the passenger seat, searching for security in Felix, but he’s dead asleep with drool seeping to the collar of his shirt. Chris smiles, his eyes turning into crescent moons almost identical to Felix’s. “Rise and shine! Can you smell that,” he asks as he shuts his eyes for a second and dramatically sniffs the air, “the sweet scent of nature.”

    I cut his excitement short, “Can you not close your eyes while driving? And roll up the window. Not everyone has fur for skin.”

    His smile falters and I almost feel bad for being rude until he says, “Feisty. I like that.”

    I attempt to sear him with pain as I glare at him through the rear view mirror, but he only chuckles under his breath and rolls up the window like I asked him to.

 

                                                                                                                           ****

    We come to a stop an hour later. Felix is now wide awake seeming jittery as I unbuckle my seatbelt. I step foot outside and the first thing I hear is a soft crunch under my feet. I look down to see white. I am taken aback for a second until my brain catches up with me and my eyes begin to follow the trail of the ivory sheet that blankets the steep hill. My feet take off before I can comprehend what’s happening. I hear the crunch with every step I take. Each one a little lighter than the next as my body exudes with happiness. I keep running uphill until I am suddenly waist deep in snow. I pat the snow around me and lay my head on top, laughing at my falling. Two pairs of footsteps hurriedly come to my side. Felix’s frantic, ‘ Are you okay?’ fills my right ear while Chris’ s ‘ I’m guessing you’ve never been in six inch snow before.’ fills my other. They try to pull me out, but I yank my arms away from them. I crawl out by myself and lay in the snow for a while. Taking it all in. I hear a thud next to me and a giggle escape from Felix’s lips as he flings his arms and legs around, creating a snow angel. I join in. Chris looms over us like a shadow, but his smile is wider than I’ve ever seen it.

    “Why are you just standing there?” Felix asks. He only shrugs, but beams as if this were the happiest day of his life. He shakes his head, chuckles and walks away sitting on a boulder a couple feet away from us.

    I sit up wanting to admire the view. “You were right,” I face Felix giving him a smile, “It’s nice up here.”

    “You said you’d never seen the snow, I figured you’d like it.”

    “I love it, actually.”

    The two of us sat in silence. It was strange how comfortable it was. I didn’t feel obligated to speak or look him in the eye. It was enough. To be in each other’s presences. With him, nothing felt forced. After minutes of quiet, he stands and heads over to Chris leaving me at peace with the winter snow I believed I’d only wish for.

                                                                                           

                                                                                                          *NARRATOR’S P.O.V*

 

    “What’s up?” Felix sits next to Chris.

    Chris points at Dani with the nod of his head and says, “I don’t think she likes me very much.”

    Felix hums in understanding having been there a couple months prior. “It takes time, she’ll warm up to you.”

    “You like her, don’t you?”

    Not fully understanding the depth of Chris’s question, Felix responded with, “Yeah, she’s awesome. I know she seems a bit cold, but she’s got a heart of gold,” he laughs remembering the day Bruno could barely keep up with him while he ran around the shop, “she always gives her dog an extra bowl of rice before they go to bed. Not to mention, she’s always helping around the shop before and after her shift. And she’s got this incredible eye for photography, you wouldn’t believe it. She’s amazing.”

    Chris softly chuckled because Felix was oblivious. He was head over heels for her; it was clear as day in the way he looked at her, how his eyes seemed to crease a bit more around the edges as his smile multiplied by the hundreds. It was more than a friendship.

    “Why don’t you snap a few pictures for her. I’m sure she’ll want to remember this,” Chris suggested.

    Felix lit up like a Christmas tree and sprung out of his sitting. He walked closer to the edge and snapped photograph after photograph. He even took pictures of the bushes covered in snow; he figured she’d want to remember even the smallest details. He took a quick glance in Chris’s direction checking to see if he was paying him any attention, and snapped a few pictures of Dani’s peaceful cross legged figure in the snow. He couldn’t help himself, she looked beautiful, even more so than most days. Out of the corner of his eyes Chris could see Felix taking pictures of her. He shook his head, a lazy smile hanging onto his lips, **Yup, totally head**   **over heels**.

                       

                                                                                                              *DANI’S P.O.V*

 

    The back and forth felt like it had been going on for hours. I was freezing, hungry and sleep deprived of a good night’s rest, but they could not decide on who would drive to the hotel.

    “Chris, you’re extremely tired and jet lagged. Let me drive,” Felix insisted.

    “No, Lix, come on you work a full time job. It must be draining,” Chris fought back.

    “I insist-”

    Out of sleepiness and hunger I yelled, “Will the both of you shut up already. Give me the keys, I’ll drive.”

    In unison, they turned their heads towards me and let out, “You know how to drive?”

    I walked up to them without a word and snatched the keys out of Chris’s hands. I strapped myself in and poked my head out the window. “You getting in or what? I’m hungry.” In silence, they pile in the backseat. With a smirk I stare into the rear view mirror. “Both of you in the backseat?”

    Chris raises his hand as if asking permission to speak. “Without any disrespect, and I speak for both of us when I say that there’s a higher chance of surviving a car crash in the back seat.”

    I shrug and shift the stick out of park mode. They let out a tiny gasp as I do so. “Buckle up boys. You’re in for a ride.” And I swear I see them in gulp in fear.

 

                                                                                                                        ****

    At the check in, Felix and Chris had another spiel on who would pay; Chris ended up winning and handed the bewildered man behind the counter his credit card. We marched into the room, zombified due to the lack of sleep. The hotel only offered bedrooms with two beds so Felix and Chris once again bickered over who would take the remaining bed, because apparently one of the beds had my name stitched on it even before stepping foot in the hotel. Again, Chris won and convinced Felix to take the second bed. ‘ I’ll be fine on the couch, Lix, Don’t worry,’ he said. As soon as Felix’s head hit the pillow he was out like a light, which left Chris and I alone in awkward silence. My stomach growled loudly catching Chris’s attention.

    “You can order something if you’d like,” he hands me the menu next to the room service landline, but I only stare at it so he places it back, “Or you can get something from the minibar.” I don’t say anything and just lay on the bed with my arms crossed over my chest. His voice grows stern, “Look, I know you don’t like me, but you’re hungry. Stop being so stubborn.”

    He wasn’t completely wrong. I was hungry, but I didn’t dislike him; I was confused. I overheard their conversation in the car, Chris talking about Korea and how he was one step closer to achieving his dreams of becoming a worldwide star. But how could he leave his friend behind?

    I sat up straight, alarming Chris as I whipped my head to look him in the eye, “How could you leave him?”

    Chris was taken by surprise, his irises larger than before. “You know?” His voice was nothing but a whisper. He glanced at Felix’s drooling figure, his eyes deepening into a pool of emotion. Regret. Guilt maybe.

    “I know he’s lonely. You were his only friend and you left,” I say with a ferocity I didn’t know ignited in me.

    Chris's shoulders relax and he lets a sigh escape his lips as he bows his head down. “Don’t you think I tried?” He lifts his head to meet my fiery gaze. “The minute I told him the news, he was over the moon. He was excited, Dani, that his friend finally had a chance, a sliver of hope to achieve what he wanted most. He urged me to go, begged me,” he bore into my gaze, extinguishing the fire that was at the pit of my stomach, “I tried to stay.”

    It was my turn to avert my gaze and bow my head; he was being sincere. We stayed in silence until I spoke up attempting to apologize and cut the tension, “So you’re a musician?” His cocky grin graced his lips once again as I continued, “So do you like write your own songs or produce your own music?”

    “Both actually,” he responds.

    I scoff and let a smile peek through my demeanor, “I could never.”

    He raises one of his eyebrows, “Well I could never take professional photographs. I suck at picking the correct lighting, let alone the right angles,” he sighs, “now _that_ takes real talent.” I stay silent not really knowing how to respond to that. “Don’t be shy. Felix says you’re really good.”

     I tuck the strand of curl that came undone behind my ear, “I’m not that great,” I draw circles on the quilt, “I just like capturing fragments of life, that’s it.”

    “Do you write about them?” Chris’s question caught me off guard.

    “Did Felix tell you that too?”

    He shakes his head, “Just a hunch,” there’s a slight pause before he asks again, “do you?”

    I nod, “It’s like seeing colors.”

    His ears perk up at the sound of that. “Colors?”

    I nod again and continue, “Yeah, when I snap a picture I see a color and write about the photograph surrounding it. That sounds weird, doesn’t it?”

    He shakes his head and crosses his legs leaning slightly forward, “Not at all. That’s very similar to how I produce music.” He digs into his pocket and pulls out his phone. He gets up from the couch and sits next to me clicking on a guitar app. “Look,” he says as he taps on a string, “that’s a C chord. Do you know what color I see?” he waits for my response so I shake my head, “Green,” he says.

    I tap on another string, “What color is this?”

    He smiles, “Light pink.”

    “What if you strummed those two chords together?”

    “A really pale yellow.”

    Out of  curiosity I ask, “Can you hear color in people’s voices?”

    He closes off the app and places his phone on the bedside table, “Yes.”

    I stay quiet wanting to ask about my voice, but at the same time afraid to. He smiles, reading my mind as he says, “You’re purple. A deep lilac color.”

    I glance over to Felix, “What about him?” His gaze softens yet hides an undercurrent of something more, a certain roughness in the pupils of his eyes,“He’s all the colors in one, but mostly blue and red, a fiery burning red.”

    In an instant, his eyes return to normal and his serious expression is replaced with a drowsy smile, “We should rest.” But before I could pull myself under the covers he calls my name, “Dani?” I hum in response.

    “Take care of him, okay?”

    I lay in silence for awhile before I answer, “Okay.”

    I wait for Chris to roll over on the couch to whisper Felix a goodnight. Drooling mess and all, he was adorable. I clicked the light off and rolled over thinking about Chris’s words until sleep enveloped me in a tight embrace.

                                 

                                                                                                                *FELIX’S P.O.V*

 

    I woke up earlier than usual the next day to develop the photos from yesterday. It was a stack of ten; I didn’t want to hand them to her bare and naked so I stopped by the craft store around the corner of the shop and bought red yarn. Hastily I ripped the string in half, and wrapped it around the photographs securing them with a bow on top. I stuffed them into the pocket of my apron before she could see and stood beside her as she took customers orders. It felt like an eternity before all of them had taken their seats.

    “I thought you’d like to paste these in your journal.” She smiled as she looked through the stack. I quickly chided in, “I know they’re not the best quality- definitely not as good as the ones you take.” She was getting to the bottom of the stack as I added, “It was Chris’s idea by the way.”

    Anxiously, I watch her as she skims through them and my heart drops. She’s holding up a picture of herself. One of the many I took of her that day. **Shit. I must** **have accidentally clicked on it and added it to the batch at Fotofast.** I avert her penetrating eyes as I stutter, “You looked nice. Why shouldn’t you have a picture of yourself in your journal?”

    Silence vibrates through the walls despite the full house. I find the courage to look up. She’s rosy cheeks and a flustered mess as she keeps re-tucking the same curl behind her ear.

    She clears her throat and stuffs the photos in her apron, “Yeah. Yes, you’re right. Thanks.”

    “We should get back to work?” I say not intending it to sound like a question.

    She nods, “Yes.”

    In a heartbeat, we go back to our respective jobs. I to the back room where I churn the ice-cream and her at the register. As I throw in the freshly diced strawberries into the batch, I can’t help but feel a growing warmth in my chest; the pink swirls resemble her flushed cheeks.


	19. On the Brink.

                                                                                                                  *FELIX’S P.O.V*

 

  _I sit in the backseat of the car with_ _the stuffed fox my dad had given me earlier that day, but everything is still. The sirens vibrate through my eardrums. Red, there’s red everywhere and my mom-she is quiet. I try to reach for her, but I can’t. I cannot move. There’s a pounding in my head, a muffled noise in the back of my ears. He’s screaming- my dad. He is speaking red._

_“Lix, hey buddy. Hold my hand bub,okay? Just hold my hand.”_

_My body lurches forward, grasping for him, but I cannot hold him. I pass through him and I fall, I fall, I fall. All I see is red._

    I jolt out of bed, my body grimed with sweat. My heart is pounding, lurching to the base of my throat. I breathe in and out shaking my mind off the nightmare. **It** **was not your fault, Lix. It was not your fault**. I repeat it. Over and over until it has become my only thought. I drag myself out of bed. **I can’t be late for work again.** I grip the sides of the bathroom sink and stare into the black pits that sit under my eyes. **Who am I?** I shake my head and splash cold water onto my face. **Wake up** I command my body, **this isn’t a dream. It is your reality.** I rush back into the room to get ready, throwing on a beanie before heading into the kitchen. I halt in my step, as I see my mum awake and not in her usual spot by the couch. I clear my throat before speaking, “Good morning, mum.”

    She snaps her attention towards me, and freezes me on the spot with her icy glare. She stumbles over with a beer bottle in hand. I wince as she inches closer. “You look like shit.” The sound exiting from her lips sound more like a whisper than a clear statement.

    Despite the lightness of her voice, her words dig through me. I clench my fists as I look into her eyes, “I’m tired.”

    Her shrill laugh fills the emptiness of our apartment, “Tired?” she walks in closer and spits bitterly, “From what? That ice-cream shop you call a job?” My nails dig into the skin of my palm as she continues talking. “Your dad was a businessman. He got up at five in the morning, prepared his own lunch because he didn’t want to wake me up,” her finger stabs me in the chest, “He even prepared your school lunch. Your dad was honorable,” The lump in my throat grows bigger and I blink faster to keep the tears from falling, but she pays me no mind as she continues, “In every sense of the way, he was a good man,” a tear escapes her eye as her words turn sour, “a hardworking man.” She leans in further, her breath tingling in my ear, “What do you know about hard work? You scoop up ice-cream for a living,” she paused and the words that followed blew a clover knife into the pit of my stomach, “You’re a fool to think he would be proud of you.” She backs away, suddenly leaving me without balance. Her face contorts to rage, eyes squinting at me with tears racing down her puffy cheeks, “You took him away from me! ” She crashes her beer bottle on the coffee table and throws the remaining parts at my face. I flinch as the shards make contact with my cheek. Shaking, I touch my fingers to my face only to be met with blood stained nails. I look up, searching for her, for any sign of regret in her eyes, but I am met with a heart of stone and a rotting soul. Her words cut deeper into the wound, “Clean this up.” There is no emotion as she says so and so I oblige. I scrub the sods of alcohol and broken glass off the coffee table and throw them in the trash. I tend to my cut in the bathroom, splashing enough water to stop the bleeding. I let a tear slip as I place a band aid across my cheek.

 

                                                                                                                       *DANI’S P.O.V*

 

    The bell dings and I swift my head up to attend the first customer of the day, but I am met with Felix. Out of instinct, I glance at the clock, a habit I’ve grown to do every time he showed up to work. It was 11:00; he was later than usual. **Something is off.** By the looks of the dark circles under his eyes and the purple band aid that was messily plastered on his cheek, I knew I was right. Trying my best to be cheery, I smiled wide, “Good morning, Felix.” My attempt came to no avail. He smiled lazily and walked to the backroom to churn the ice-cream. I followed him and tried once more, “Can I help?” It was only then, standing right next to him that I noticed the dry blood that peeked out from under the band aid and the slight bruising and swelling that surrounded it. Gently, I squeezed his arm, “What’s wrong?”

    “What?” he asked dumbfounded, eyebrows in a bunch. I point to my cheek, indicating the gash on his face. His eyes drift to the floor and as if to be self-conscious, he shields the cut with his palm. I grip his hand away, “Don’t bullshit me, Felix. What’s wrong?” His eyes fall to the contact of our skin, but he remains quiet. I gently squeeze his wrist.

     As if I had turned on a switch, he stretches a smile and lets out an overly enthusiastic laugh, “Oh! This,” he point to his cheek, “it’s nothing. I scraped my cheek with the end of my kitchen cabinet.” I interject, but I’m silenced again with a shitty inconvincible, “This is me being clumsy. It’s fine, really.”

    I cross my arms against my chest,“Fine, if you don’t want to tell me what happened at least let me sanitize it,” I say.

    “I already-”

    I cut him off scolding, “Properly.”

    He sighs in defeat and hangs his apron on the wall. “Go to the bathroom inside. Candi has a kit under the sink,” I instruct, “I’ll clean up here.” To my relief he does as told and disappears behind the beaded curtain.

 

                                                                                                                              ****

    He sits on the toilet while I grab the first-aid kit under the sink. I open it and set everything I need aside. Gingerly, I peel the bandaid off, wanting to prevent the cut from bleeding. He winces, a small tear forming at his waterline. Taking the bandaid off completely was a graphic site. I lift his chin up to get a closer look.

    “Felix, this is pretty bad. I think you need stitches.” His eyes bulge from their sockets, “What? No way, you’re exaggerating.” I step aside giving him full access to the mirror. His breath hitches as he stares at the swollen and bruised cut. Ashamed, I would assume, he casts his eyes downward.

    “We have to go to the clinic,” I say.

    “No, it’s fine, just spray some alcohol on it or something.” I shake my head and grab his arm, “ We’re going.”

 

                                                                                                                            ****

    The nurse greets us with a kind smile as she walks into the room. She snaps on rubber gloves and tilts his head up towards the lights. “Did you fall off your skateboard,” she asks. Felix shakes his head. “The cut’s pretty bad. How did you manage to split your cheek?”

    He made eye contact with me, but quickly averted his gaze as he cleared his throat to respond, “Kitchen cabinet. I walked into it as I was about to shut it.”

    The nurse scrunched her nose and furrowed her eyebrows, “It looks pretty deep for an accidental bump with your kitchen cabinet. Are you sure that’s how you cut your cheek?”

    Felix nodded his head feverishly, “Positive.”

    The nurse shrugged and continued with the sanitizing process. After throwing the last of the cotton swabs filled with dried blood, she assembled the needle and what looked like thread. Felix had his eyes tightly shut and it was obvious he was holding his breath. The nurse noticed. She chuckled and asked, “Would you want your friend to hold your hand while I stitch you up?” He let out a sigh of relief and nodded. As the needle was mere inches from his skin, he laced our fingers together and whispered, “I’m sorry.” I was confused as to what he meant, but soon found out as he excruciatingly crushed my hand the entire stitching process. We both sighed in relief after it was over.

 

                                                                                                                          ****

    The walk back to the shop was awfully quiet. He kept his head hung low and was busy kicking a stone on the sidewalk. I kicked the stone out of his reach, forcing him to look into my eyes. “I know the kitchen cabinet thing is a lie,” I say.

    I don’t expect him to answer but he does. “Am I that bad of a liar?” he softly chuckles.

    Not seeing the joke in the current situation I reply annoyed, but mostly concerned, “You suck.” I stop in my tracks and tug on his sweater, “Please tell me what happened. I can help.” His eyes grow soft but hard around the edges, a glossy film spreading over them. His lips perk up to the side, but failing to exist. He untangles my fingers from his sweater and replaces the cloth with his touch. He squeezes my hand softly and horsley whispers, “I’m okay, Dani,” he faces forward but doesn’t let go of my hand, “Let’s get to work.” We walk in silence once again, hand in hand.

 

                                                                                                                      *FELIX’S P.O.V*

 

    I walk through the front door to find her sitting at the kitchen counter. There’s a pack of beer laying next to her and a bottle of vodka in her hand. I tap her gently, wanting to walk her to the couch. When she doesn’t budge, I tap her a little harsher until I’m rocking her with urgency. **Why isn’t she waking up?** I roll her over and swat the hair out of her face. My heart drops. She’s pale and her lips are blue. My chest is tightening and it’s getting harder to breathe. **What’s wrong?** **What’s wrong?** The question repeats in my mind as I carry her to the couch. My fingers heavily punch in 911.

    “911 what is your emergency?”

    The words come out strangled and caught between cries, “My mom, I- I don’t know what’s wrong with her.” In a matter of seconds, all the years of built up resentment and remorse come crawling out like howls. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do.”

    “Your mom is going to be okay. I need you to calm down. Can you do that for me?” I violently nod unaware that the operator can’t see me. She repeats, “Can you do that for me?”

    “Okay,” I breathe into my phone.

    “What is your name?”

    I tug at my mom’s arm, hoping she is only playing a nasty trick on me. I hear the operator on the other end calling for my attention, “Sir, are you there? I need you to stay on the line with me. What is your name?”

    “Felix.”

    “Okay Felix, what is your location?”

    I scramble the walls of my brain for the address. I stutter, “1409 Markeri St. apartment 2B.”

    “The paramedics are on their way. Please stay on the line.”

    I snuggle closer to her and wrap myself in her embrace. I whisper against the dimly lit room, a silent prayer to God, **Please don’t let her die.** I hear the sirens in the distance, consuming me as they get closer. The paramedics rush in through the half open door and lift my mom onto a stretcher. Time seems to stop as I lay eyes on her pale face. **She can’t die. She can’t.** I ride in the back with her, my heart resting at the pit of my stomach.


	20. Break.

                                                                                                              *FELIX’S P.O.V*

 

    The beeping from the heart monitor pulses in tune with the migraine ringing in my head. I can’t look away as the neon green lifts and drops, up and down. Her pale face won’t leave my mind even as I stare at the underlying flush of pink that exists beneath her cheeks. **Wake up.You have to get up**. I lock our hands and indulge in her touch; it’s been so long. I draw smooth circles at the base of her thumb and the tears slip. Her hands look small in mine, fragile and broken. I squeeze it and talk to her, hoping the sound of my voice will bring her home.

    “Remember how you used to read to me every night? I’d drag you to my room and shove ‘Possum Magic’ into your hands,” I pause and let out a breath, “You’d read it twice or else I’d cry because I was afraid of the dark,” I squeeze her hand tighter, my words getting caught in the back of my throat, “When you’d finish reading it the second time, I’d hold onto your hand and squeeze it because I didn’t want you to go.”

    The tears fall quicker as I try to keep my breathing under control. “So you’d squeeze back, and tell me that is was okay, to be ‘just a little braver’ ,” I take a sharp breath and press my lips to her hand, “You have to wake up okay? Please, you can’t leave me. You’re all I have left.” I press our foreheads together, my tears wetting her cheeks. I whisper in her ear as loud as I can muster. “Please don’t leave me.” I press a kiss on the crown of her head, wishing all my strength into her pleading God to bring her back to me. I walk out of her room and chug two cups of coffee in the waiting area. **This isn’t strong enough**. Aggressively, I wipe the tears away and crush the cup in my hand as I throw it in the bin by the exit. I make a pit stop at the liquor store before heading back home.

 

                                                                                                                  *CHRIS’S P.O.V*

 

    “See you later mum,” I call out.

    She waves as I head out the door, “Make sure to say hi to Felix for me. He hasn’t come visit in so long.”

    I nod in acknowledgment and head out the door. As I am walking to his apartment, I call him. The ring on the other end sounds one, two, three, four times. **Why** **isn’t he picking up? He always does.** I shove my phone back into my pocket and pick up the pace. Soon, I am walking faster, half jogging until I’m in a full speed run. I come to a halt when I see his door slightly open. I barge in coming to the messed up conclusion that I’ll find him dead with a knife stuck to his chest, but the first thing I see is Felix on the floor, his head lazily resting against the kitchen counter with beer bottles littered around him. My eyes linger to the one in his hand. **This isn’t like him.Something is wrong**.

    I clash onto my knees moving the bottles out of the way. I take the beer out of his hand and throw it alongside the others. I grab onto his shoulders and shake him. “What’s up bud? Talk to me.” I search for emotion- anger, sadness- but I find nothing. He seems paralyzed, lost in his own mind as he barely even blinks. I shake him once more, “Lix, it’s me. I’m here; I’m right here.”

    Nothing. His head hangs low and his eyes remain focused on the carpet behind me. I curse under my breath as I reside in throwing out the beer bottles. I count them as they go. One, five, ten, fourteen. They break at the bottom of the bin; I hear them shatter into pieces. From the far end of the kitchen I hear Felix whisper something. I rush to his side. I grip his shoulder as I speak, “What was that?” As I get no response from him, I grip his shoulder tighter and ask him once more, “Lix, can you repeat that?”

    His head slowly lifts. His eyes are bloodshot, his lips cracked. He blows the words out of his mouth, “It’s my fault.” I don’t have time to let out a comment of confusion as he continues. “My mom-”

    “No Felix-” I am cut off by the harsh grip around my wrist. He slurs as he talks.

    “She-she’s in the hospital.” His voice falters at the end, his head hanging lower than before. He brings his knees up and buries himself in his arms. “It’s my fault Chris! It should have been me! It should have been me!” His sobs are loud. Louder than the day he told me about his dad. Louder than any father’s day he's spent alone, louder than any holiday or birthdays. In between sobs, he chokes and throws up on his shorts. I lift him up and rush him to the bathroom before he can throw up on anything else. He falls on the tiles with a thud and immediately he buries his head in the toilet. Vomit ejects out of his mouth, a venomous faucet at full force. His cries can be heard and the tears that smear down his red cheeks visible. After a minute, he stops. His eyes, his lips, his cheeks, his very being is drained. His body’s weak and crumbling as he grips the toilet and softly lets the tears drop. I rub his back in circles, knowing that no words will bring comfort. Not this time.

    Felix whispers into the toilet, “I just want her to be okay.”

    My chest tightens, heart breaking for him, “I know bud, I know.”

    I take his shorts off and throw them in the washer. He struggles, but takes his shirt off and stumbles to the side after doing so. I catch him, and lead him to his bedroom. He flops on and is out faster than his head could hit the pillow. **I have to tell her.** I unlock his phone and jot down the address of the hospital. I run out and head to the ice-cream shop. **Hopefully, I can catch** **her in time.**

                                                                                                             

                                                                                                                             ****

    I hear a “Sorry we’re closed” as soon as I walk through the door. She’s busy wiping away at the tables not even bothering to glance up.

    “Are you always this friendly with your customers?” I chuckle.

    Her head whips around and cracks a fraction of a smile, “What do you want, Chris?” I stuff my hands into the pockets of my leather jacket, “You’re not going to offer me a waffle cone?” She only glares at my comment and continues to wipe down the tables. I step closer to her, “It’s Felix.” Her actions falter. Her body leans in, suddenly out of balance as she tugs the cleaning rag in her hand tighter. She quickly picks up her actions again wishing her moment of weakness go unnoticed by me. Her swiping is aggressive as she clears her throat, “Yeah?” I walk up behind her and yank on the rag, pulling it out of her hand. She’s forced to look at me and as she turns I don’t waste time in telling her.

    “It’s bad. Really bad.” I sit down pulling her down with me. “His mom’s in the hospital,” I say. Her eyes widen and her brows knot in worry, “Why?” I shake my head, “He’ll tell you,” I lean forward and slip her a piece of paper, “He’s scared, Dani. Go to him.” I stand up walking to the door. Before I step foot outside, I look her in the eyes hoping she could see the urgency and Felix’s broken pieces in my irises, “Be there.” I slip into the cool night without another word. All that’s left to hear is the ringing of the door bell.

 

                                                                                                                     *DANI’S P.O.V*

 

    “Is something wrong with him, _mija_? He didn’t show up for work yesterday and he hasn’t shown up today.”

    I shrug as I tie the apron around my waist, “I don’t know Candi, I haven’t heard from him either,” I lied.

    “Don’t you have his phone number?” she questioned.

    I nodded, “Yeah, but he hasn’t called or texted me.”

    “Call him. I’m worried; he’s never missed work.” I only nod chewing on my bottom lip as I contemplate on Chris’s advice. **Should I go?** **He probably wouldn’t** **want me there.** I shake the thoughts away as I unravel the knot in my apron. I hang it back on the wall. “Can I run to the stationary store quickly?” I ask her, “I need to buy a new journal; I only have a few pages left.”

    “ _Claro_. I’ll get started on today’s batches, but don’t take too long.” I give her no time in finishing her sentence as I rush out the door. **I have to see him.** I uncrumple the piece of paper with the hospital’s address and I punch the letters into my phone. I sprint in its direction, my heart and thoughts skipping in a jumbled mess.

 

                                                                                                                         ****

    I was out of breath by the time I reached the double sliding doors. My hands found their way onto my knees as I lurched forward gasping for air. I look up and I see him; he is chugging a cup of coffee. His eyes, growing like saucers meet mine. He makes his way over to me and my heart stops beating. It flies into my air pipes sitting at the base of my throat. His voice vibrates through me. “What are you doing here?”

    I force my gaze to the sterilized waxed floors. “I heard about what happened. Are you okay?” I mentally scold myself as those last three words exit my lips. He rubs the space between his eyebrows and sighs. He lands on the chair closest to him.

    We sit in silence for awhile until he speaks. “You should go.” His voice sounds raw and hoarse. He stands up heading towards the hallway.

    With all the courage I can muster I yank onto his wrist. “No, I’m staying. Here. With you,” I stand and wrap my arms around his, “Let’s go see your mom.”

    He shakes his head but makes no attempt in releasing himself from my grasp. "You don’t have to-”

    I cut him off before he can continue, “ I don’t care.” I tug at his arm and drag him towards the hallway he was headed to. He points to the end of the hall. I take in a sharp inhale as he opens the door of the room.

    “I told you-” he whispers.

    I grip his arm tighter, reassuring him and myself. “I want to.”

    We enter and sit on the couch by his mom’s bedside. I can’t bring myself to look at either of them; I keep my eyes trained on my arm around his instead. He sturrs under me and unravels himself. He stands with his head lowered and mumbles under his breath. Before I can ask him to repeat that, he is out of the room. I sit in silence for a while, staring at the IV fluids flowing from its bag and into her. A feeling stirs inside, burning and hot in the pit of my stomach. I snap out of my daze and pick up after Felix. I don’t see him anywhere as I whip my head in all directions. I must have seemed frantic because the lady at the front desk interrupts my search.

    “Are you okay, miss?”

    I turn my attention to her, “Have you seen a boy around my age? Blonde hair? Purple beanie?” She smiles and points towards a hallway on the opposite side. I thank her and rush through it, peeking into every door’s window. I reach the end of the hallway and am met with a door leading to the rooftop. **There’s no other place he could be.** I push the door open and run up the sets of stairs, too many to count. The ice cold air is a slap to the face as I step out. **He** **must be freezing**. I spot him by the edge, crouched down, his face buried in his arms and knees. His beanie sitting messily a few feet away.

    I walk towards him preparing a speech, but as I sit he blows out into the wind, “ ‘Lix accidents happen. You didn’t do anything wrong.You were a kid.’ ” He snorts and rests his head against the wall. He laughs, but it sounds hollow and empty. His voice breaks, his eyes glistening as he continues, “Everything is on me.” He balls his fist and strikes himself against the chest. I flinch as he does so. “My dad,” he pauses and my chest tightens, “It’s my fault.” **What?** My brows tie into a confused knot. “If I hadn’t whined about going to that stupid amusement park, he would still be here!” He grows quieter. “And my mom would be sane, healthy. She would be happy.” His words winded me like a punch to the gut. The lump in my throat grows as I reach for him. I whisper his name, but he pounces. “Don’t you get it, Dani? It’s my fault! I ruined my family!” He digs his head back into his arms and knees. I can hear the muffled sobs and the trembling echo of his voice. I lightly squeeze his shoulder. He lifts his head, streaks of tears paved on his cheeks. I tackle him in a hug before tears of my own spill. He tucks into me, his head resting on my chest. The cries grow louder and louder, the howl of the wind carrying them with it. Gingerly I run my fingers through his hair, the action foreign to me. But I don’t stop, imagining my fingers as small brooms sweeping away the pain and the loss.

 

                                                                                                            *NARRATOR’S P.O.V*

 

    “I had a fever,” he lied.

    “I had to force you to go home once because of a fever,” Candela retorted. He smiles softly, the light unable to reach his eyes. He turns his attention back to the ice-cream, but Candela stops him and places her hands over his own. “Look at me,” she says as she turns the machine off. His eyes begin to water and his throat suddenly becomes thinner. He fixes his gaze on the dot of strawberry ice cream that spilled on the floor. “What’s wrong, _mi niño_?” She caresses his cheeks and rubs her thumbs over the freckles that litter them. The tears fall on demand.

    His voice hitches as he cries into her chest, “My mom’s sick. She drank too much this time. Her lips were blue and her face-,” he chokes on his tears and continues crying. Candela’s eyes widen at his confession. **This time? There's been more?** Her heart drops to the pit of her stomach as she pictures the boy who never fails to have a smile on his face sitting at home, alone watching as his mother wastes her life away. She holds him tighter and hopes her words mean comfort as she whispers in his ear, “It’s okay, _mijo_. It’s okay.” She pulls him away, his head hanging low in attempts to cover the splotches of red hiding in his irises. Her voice forces him to look her in the eye. “Go home. Rest,” she says. 

    He shakes his head, brushing what’s left of the tears, “I can’t. This is my only distraction.” She wants to interject and tell him to take as much time as he needs, but the quiver in his upper lip and the sheen in his eyes tell of many years of pent up emotion. **How did I not notice?**

    “I need this,” he establishes. Guilt is what drives her into accepting. Before leaving, she kisses his cheek. As she makes her way towards the back of the shop, she turns and watches as he continues stirring the ice-cream, churning it with more force and vigorously wiping his puffy red eyes.


	21. Breaking Point

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> MAJOR ANGST. beware.

                                                                                                                   

                                                                                                            *DANI’S P.O.V *

    I sit up from my bed in a frenzy; the tossing and turning wasn’t helping me sleep. I look at the clock; it reads 2:30 a.m. Without considering the time, I pick up my phone and punch in Chris’s number. I can hear the ring on the other end once, twice, three times, but he doesn’t pick up. **Come on Chris, answer the stupid** **phone**. I call again; it rings twice before I hear his croaky voice on the other line. I cut him off before he has a chance to complain.

    “Why didn’t you tell me? About his dad? His mom?” My voice came out less of an inquiry but as an angry remark. I try my best to whisper, careful not to wake Candi up. There’s a heavy sigh on his end, but he keeps quiet after. “Are you even listening to me?” I exclaim.

    “Of course I am.” He sounds tired. I immediately soften and clear my throat, but I continue with the same question.

    “Why didn’t you tell me?” I hear ruffling and multiple groans of what I assume is him stretching, attempting to wake up. Seconds later, the groans stop and there is only silence.

    He clears his throat and speaks, sleep still laced in his words, “How could I?” My brows furrowed in confusion, but he continued. “I’ve known Lix my whole life; it took him ten years to open up. Hangouts after school were always at my place. I never questioned it until freshman year of high school. I started pushing him for answers, wondering why we could never go to his place. He brushed it off, saying his house was a mess, but I knew something was off. After that, he started spending more time with my family and I; we had sleepovers often, he even came with us to Sunday brunches and spent time with us on father’s day. He was always with us, Dani, his birthdays too. I knew something was wrong. So I took matters into my own hands.”

    “What did you do?” I hung over his every word.

    He continued, “I ordered a keyboard online for his birthday and shipped it to his house.”

    “How did you know his address?”

    He chuckles, “I broke into the principal’s office and looked at his file.”

    I roll my eyes and scoff, “Of course you did.”

    “I told him I had a surprise for him, that I had shipped it to his house because I wanted to see his reaction as he opened it. He was panicking, but he simply smiled and lead the way home. He fumbled with his keys and kept checking his pulse, a nervous habit I picked up on over the years. He opened the door and his mum was asleep on the couch. There was nothing odd about his home, until his mum woke up. She started yelling at him for inviting a stranger, grabbed him by the ear and shoved him against the kitchen counter. He had a bruise on his left eye for the next few weeks," he exhaled a shaky breath and I picked at the hem of my shirt as he continued talking, "I sat there frozen; his eyes watered but he didn’t cry,” he let out a wry chuckle as he continued, “his mum simply walked past him. She opened the fridge, took out a beer bottle and that’s when everything clicked.”

    A lump had formed in my throat. “What happened next?” The question came out small and muffled.

     "He hung his head low and grabbed me by the arm and whispered ‘we should go’ ,” there was a pause on the other end. His voice cracked as he began to speak again, “We stepped out and walked to the park in silence. He started crying as soon as we sat down. He kept apologizing and mumbling how sorry he was that I had to see that, that it was his fault. I felt guilty but I kept quiet. I hugged him and he broke down confessing why he spent so much time with my family and I. I told him I would always be there for him; I would never leave him behind. He wiped the tears away, calmed himself and stayed quiet again. I nudged his shoulder and handed him the package, told him to open it. If only you were there, Dani. He hugged the keyboard and with the biggest eye smile told me he was thankful for his older brother. It broke my heart knowing I had to tell him what I'd done.”

    “How did he react?”

    “He didn’t speak to me for a month. My point is, it wasn’t my place to do what I did and it sure as hell wasn’t my place to tell you.” We stayed quiet for a minute as I reflected over everything. He called my name, shaking me out of my thoughts. “Dani?” I only mumbled an answer into the phone. “I’m glad he told you.”

    Confused I asked, “Why?”

    Full heartedly he answered, “Because it means he’s willing to heal.” I laid back down, finding peace in his response. I breathed into the phone without saying anything. I could hear him breathing lightly. **He’s probably falling asleep.**

    “Chris?” I called. He hummed a response. **I should let him rest.** “Good night.” He mumbled a good night and ended the call. I stared at the ceiling for another half hour until the sheets entangled me in a warm embrace.

 

                                                                                                                             ****

 

    I fumble with the alarm on my phone heavily squinting at the bright screen. The time reads 10:00 a.m. I jolt from under the covers, the soft touch from the blanket awakening Bruno from his sleep. I race to the bathroom, but holt in my steps as I hear Felix’s voice coming from the backroom. **He’s here.** My heart picks up, violently beating at the base of my throat. I overhear his conversation with Candi. His voice is low and gravely laced with chains of grief. Something in me stirs as he speaks.

    “My mum’s getting dispatched this afternoon. I was hoping I could get an early shift.”

    “Of course, _mijo_. Take all the time you need.”

    I rushed into the bathroom as those words left his mouth. **I need to go**. **I need to see her before he does.** I pile on the remaining layers of clean clothes in my closet and swiftly make my way to the backroom.

    “Hey sleepyhead.” His voice snapped me in place. I froze and turned my head in his direction; he was churning the ice-cream. His fingertips were stained a rosy hue matching the chunks of cherries in the batch. His eyes were heavy, deep pools resting beneath them drowning the genuine sincerity that graced his lips.

    I glued my sweaty palms to my sides and spoke through thin lips, “Hey.”

    His smile fell as he turned his attention back to the cherry batch. “You don’t have to pretend with me,” he spoke.

    My eyebrows twitched in confusion, “Pretend?” The machine came to a stop. He clicked the whisks out of their place and hit the excess off into the batch. The loud metal bang rang through my body. He set the whisks down next to the sink and faced me, his expression unreadable.

    His arms crossed over each other as he spoke, “Pretend I’m okay.” I could only mutter a mere ‘oh.’ An awkward silence washed over between us. I cleared my throat, offering ease to the situation. He pointed at the bag hung around my body. “You’re going somewhere?”

    I nodded making up a lie, “Yeah, it’s Bruno. We ran out of his favorite dog food so duty calls, you know?” He nodded slowly turning his body towards the sink. "Tell Candi I won’t be too late.” There was no response as I stepped foot out the door.

 

                                                                                                                             ****

 

    I inhaled sharply as I stood in front of the room. **Should I be doing this?** but I shake the thought of rushing back to the shop as I pull down on the knob. The door hits the wall with a bang. Her back is facing me, her slender and fragile figure evident through her thin cotton dress. My eyes gravitate towards her legs; their ill-looking and scrawny. **She’s weak.** The thought stops me for half a second and I stand there frozen as she faces me with a confused fiery gaze in her eyes. I cut her off before her lips part. “Why did you do it?”

    Her eyebrows twist into a knot, “Excuse me?”

    “Why did you do it,” I repeated. Her feet began to scoot backwards, as fast as they could take her.

    The sound of sandals scratching the tiles mixed with her voice, “You crazy, stupid girl,” she spat, “who let you into my room? I’m calling security,” she warned. Her fingers barely graze the telephone cord as I blurt out his name. She halts in her actions. I take a step closer. “Your son.” She whirls around, her cotton dress wrapping itself around her small body. Her eyes bulge out, the purple in her veins vivid on her pale skin.

    In an instant, her breath hits my nose as she spits, “What do you know about my son?” The pungent odor of alcohol is prominent on her lips. I stand mere centimeters apart from her, mouth agape. **This is how it’s always been.** **The only image he’s seen of her**. A flame flickers at the base of my throat-the overwhelming sensation of nails digging into palms grows.

    “I know he is alone-has been for the past decade. I know he wakes up early for work, yet somehow finds ways to come in late.” My face is heating up and the flicker of heat in my throat transforms into a spew of lava. A tear trickles down my cheek, but I wipe it away with the palm of my sweater, “But it doesn't matter because he is there. Always. In spite of his lack of sleep, in spite of all the bullshit you’ve put him through,” The tears are coming fast, racing down my face as water droplets do in the winter rain,"You would be the luckiest mom; he is kind and has a good heart.” Her head hung low, but the golden rays that peeked through the curtain flashed in her eyes pools of regret. Her eyes were lined with red, a glassy sheen falling across them. **I can’t stop. Not now. She has to listen**. “What did he ever do to you,” I whisper, “what did he ever do for you to abandon him?” The words struggle slipping past my lips as I attempt to swallow the heavy lump sitting in my throat. “For you to leave him alone on Christmas and his birthday? Do you have any idea what you’ve done? He blames himself for his father’s death. How could you do that to him? How could you do that to a child, your child?” I step back and rest my hand on the door knob. I blow my final thought before leaving the room, “He deserves to be loved. I hope you realize that soon.”

 

                                                                                                            *FELIX’S P.O.V*

    I sit at the counter, frozen in confusion as she moves around the kitchen. For a moment, I believe I hear her humming. A memory of Dad and I sitting at the counter while mum prepared dinner flashed before my eyes, but I am awoken from my daydream as her gentle voice calls for me, “Lix?” My heart lurches to the back of my throat, my stomach turning to knots at the sound of my name rolling down her lips. **I haven’t heard that in a while. Not from her.** I pick at my eyes, blinking away the tears as I hum in response. “You still like fried rice, right?” It takes a second for my brain to register what she’s asking, but the words roll out on command at the sound of the pans and pots banging against each other.

    I whisper into the air, “Yeah.” I watch her as she looks through the empty pantries and long forgotten fridge. **This is not the woman you’ve lived with for the past** **ten years.** As if slapped out of a dream, I sit up, the screeching of metal against tile bounces off the walls. “What are you doing?” She faces me with a warm smile laying gracefully on her lips.

    My breath hitches, needles pricking my eyes as she answers, “Can’t I cook my son a meal?” She opens the fridge once more searching for food that doesn’t exist. “God, isn’t there a single egg in this house?” Rage and fear crawl from within me. My mind is running hot, but my heart is reaching, yearning. **She’s back,** it whispers, **we’ve missed her so much.** I bite the inside of my cheek and dig my fingernails in the pink scars living in the crevice of my palms. My brain screeches and holds me in place. **She doesn’t deserve you.** I nod- a silent agreement with the conscious that swims in my head. My fists grow tighter, veins bulging as if screaming.

    “You can’t!” She jumps at the roughness of my voice. She doesn’t say anything, only stands with her back to me. “You can’t just walk back into my life and pretend to be a mum when you’ve been absent for the last fourteen years! There’s no food in the house because I’ve been busy getting up at the ass crack of dawn to go to work. To maintain us on our feet. And for what? So you can lay on the couch and get wasted? So yeah there’s no eggs in the house. Sorry for the inconvenience.”

    She begins to speak, but I shut the noise out with the slam of the door. The cool air hits my face and I breathe. For once, in what feels like ages, my shoulders feel lighter. 

   

                                                                                                                   *DANI’S P.O.V*

    Bruno tugs me along as he scurries onto the sand. The jingle of his collar is drowned by the waves as we grow nearer to our usual spot. I sit, digging my toes in the sand as soon as my shoes are off. The sunset paints me gold, the hidden pink hues in the sky reflecting on the ocean blue. Bruno barks as the waves crash into him, enamored by the seaweed that tangles itself around his tail. I chuckled to myself as I snapped a mental picture of him splashing around; I could admire this scenery forever. Suddenly, Bruno runs off. I try calling after him, but he ignores the sound of my voice. I look up to see what’s got him so riled up to find Felix sitting on the sand. **He’s been crying.** His nose is slightly red and his eyes are swollen. Bruno pats at his legs and gnaws on his sweater. He whispers a soft, “Hey buddy.” and ruffles the back of his ears. I don’t move. **How do I approach him? Do I ignore the fact that he’s been crying? Should I ask about his mom?**

     “I can see you, you know,” he speaks. Felix waves but his eyes don’t smile back. I wave and sit beside him untangling the seaweed from Bruno’s tail to avoid the awkward conversation that lies ahead. We sit in silence, the sound of the crashing waves filling the space between us. His voice is sharp and abrupt as he slices the quiet air around us. “My mum’s cooking,” he chuckles but there’s a hint of resentment laced beneath his smile. My mind replays the events of two weeks ago, at the hospital, her thin cotton dress, her fragile ankles, and the red that rimmed her eyes. **She listened.**

    “That’s,” I seal my lips before the words spill out of my mouth and inhale slowly scavenging for answers in the grains of sand, “that’s good, right?”

    “No, it’s not!” His sudden shriek startles Bruno and he rushes to his side, tugging on the loose strand on his sweater. He doesn’t push him off or fling his sweater out of reach; he stays still, knees caved in towards his chest, his arms clenching around them as if afraid to let go, and a single tear rolling down his cheek. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. “Why now?” He sounds small against the waves, the feathery blow of his voice swinging around me. Light and heavy all at once. Whole but broken.

    “Lix-” I reach my hands towards him but it’s swatted away by the sharp edge in his response.

    “I don’t need her pampering! I’ve done good enough on my own.” I squeezed his shoulder, speaking the words unspoken. **I am here.** “Can we just sit here?” his breaths are lighter, “and like not talk? Please? I just want to sit in front of the ocean for a little while.” I nod and inch closer to him. Bruno tucks himself between us and I swear I see the faint shadow of a smile ghosting his lips. I sigh and attempt to focus my gaze on the terracotta pink clouds that litter the sky, but my eyes wander to him. With a breath of bravery and a whisper of confidence, I rest my head on his shoulder hoping for the better days to come.

 

                                                                                                                 *FELIX’S P.O.V*

    The sun was setting, carefully tucking itself behind the waves. I cursed it under my breath because she would wake and I’d have to pretend my breath wasn’t clenched in my lungs and my heart wasn’t dancing in circles as she rested her head on my shoulder. I’d have to pretend no sunset compared to her golden skin. I’d have to go back to pretending I didn’t see her as more than a friend. As soon as night came, our lives would resume and I’d have to go back home. Away from her. Back to a void of anger, hot tears, and muffled screams. **Just a little longer,** I pleaded, **let me admire her for a little longer**. But, Bruno stirred between us and gnawed at Dani’s already ripped jeans. I ruffled his ears and tapped her lightly. She jumped awake despite my soft attempt. “What’s wrong?” Her head whipped in all directions, eyes wide. I cupped her head with my hands and turned it towards the setting sun.

    “It’ll be dark soon. We should head out.” I released myself and stood, dusting whatever sand dug its way into my jeans. I extended my hand out and whispered a prayer to the heavens she would take it. And she did- hesitantly and a bit apprehensive by the look in her eyes, but she held it tight. “I’ll walk you back to the shop,” I said. She nodded. We walked hand in hand, Bruno running circles between the two of us.

 

                                                                                                                       ****

 

    I walk through the door and a familiar scent hits my nose. **Fried rice. She actually made it.** I hear ruffling from the hallway and see mum step out with a cleaning rag in her hand. Again my breath hitches. **She hasn’t cared for anything in years.** “I bought the ingredients,” she points towards the plate neatly packed with rice on the kitchen counter, “I stocked up the pantries and the fridge too,” she hung the cleaning rag on the faucet sink and opened the fridge. It was strange seeing it so full. “Look I even found the grape juice you used to drink when you were little.” She waved it in the air and set it down next to the plate. She sticks a straw in it and urges for me to sit down. “You look hungry. Sit.” I watch her slender, pale fingers make contact with the counter as she taps it. I wince; I’m afraid she’s going to break. I sit and she lets out a shaky breath. I stare at the plate before me, cursing myself mentally. Because I need her, no matter how hard I try to deny it. I need her and it’s taking all of my strength to resist the urge of shoving the rice and juice aside to give her a hug. The cling of the metal brings me back to reality. She’s holding out the spoon, rice packed on its small surface. “Try it. It’s really good; it tastes exactly how it used to.”

    She shoves the spoon to my lips, but I move my head in the other direction. “I’m not a baby anymore.”

    “I know Lix, but you’re still _my_ baby boy.” She sets the spoon down. Her fingers reach for my cheek, but I turn. I stand and shove the chair aside. Hot tears rush down my face before I can even get the words out.

    “Where were you when your baby needed help with his homework, when he needed to get to school on time, when he needed his uniform washed,” I step closer, but she shields herself with her bangs, outgrown from years of missed maintenance. A dry chuckle escapes my lips, “How was I supposed to know how to use the washer at five years old? Or that you separate the colored clothes from the white? Or that adding two capfuls of soap will cause the washer to overflow, but one and a half is not enough,” I brushed the tears away vigorously, my nails forming light scratches under my eyes, “I had to figure it out all on my own!” Her hand reaches for mine. I take a step back and clench my fists into stone. “Where were you when your baby skipped class because he had no parent to show off on career day? When he was excited to show you his first science project? His first piano cover, his first everything,” I exhaled shakily, my heart on the weight of my shoulders, slowly falling in fragments on the carpet, “Where were you when I cried myself to sleep every night. Where were you when I needed you! You left me alone! When dad died, I felt like the world had come down on me. You don’t get that, do you? You blocked me out and left me hanging dry while you drank our savings away,” I scoffed and winced at the tears that kept pricking at my eyes. I slammed my fist against the counter top focusing on the pain. “He was my dad, I lost him too!” She jolts in her spot, but the words keep spilling from my mouth like hot lava, “I needed you!”

    Her eyes grow softer, a pool of tears welling in her irises. She whispers - an almost inaudible breath from her lips, but I hear it. It’s small and broken. And it hurts. “I’m right here, baby.”

    I shake my head, tears rolling down my cheeks. The rage sits at the base of my throat slowly subsiding, melting into the pit of my stomach. All that is left are scraps of faded memories- sitting in my room on my tenth birthday, blowing out the candle that sat on top of the blueberry muffin Chris had bought me that day. I’m drained, the fight absent from my voice; it comes out weak, a fragile breath spilling from my lips, “I needed my mum. Where were you?”

    She doesn’t move, her gaze avoiding mine. **I have to get out of here.** It’s late and cold, but I walk out slamming the door behind me. The night air brushes along side me and leads me to the calming sound of the waves. I dig into the sand- my feet, my legs, arms and hands. They reach for warmth. For anything beyond the grainy pieces that get stuck underneath my nails. They find nothing but cold.


	22. Milkshakes & Hair-Dye.

                                                                                                                    *DANI’S P.O.V*

    Bruno wouldn’t stop barking. He kept fussing around under the covers, scratching at the sheets. It was six in the morning and the sun was yet to rise for another half hour. I huffed out of bed and tied his leash on. I bent down to ruffle his ears and whispered, not wanting to wake Candi. “You are so impatient, you know that?” He licked his nose and tilted his head to the side, staring at me in what resembled confusion. I chuckled and stepped foot to the beach unbothered by the pajamas that still clung on my body.

    A body was sprawled on the sand as we arrived. I didn’t pay much attention to whoever was there. **They must have passed out after their morning jog.** I thought of it as that, but Bruno stopped crashing himself against the waves and carried his paws to the human a couple feet away from us. My brain set itself in a panicked frenzy recalling yesterday’s events. **Felix.** I shot up from my seat and ran, kicking up an excessive amount of sand behind me. **It can’t be him.** **Please let it** **not be him.** The shaggy blonde hair, red sweater and striped socks gave it away. I dropped to my knees and shook him violently. “Felix, wake up!” A string of ‘oh my god’ and a chorus of ‘please don’t be dead blew from my mouth. Bruno tugged on his socks, almost ripping them to shreds, but he wouldn’t budge. I ripped my shirt off and ran to the water, drenching it. I ran back, stumbling to the ground in the process. I squeezed the water out as tight as I could, careful not to get it in his eyes. As if awoken from the dead, he lurched forward gasping for air. A wave of relief washed over my shoulders. I dropped my soaked shirt to the side and tackled him in a hug not caring if I was half naked. “You’re alive! Oh my god, thank god,” I breathed. I felt his arms wrap around my bare back. I continued word vomiting into his ear, “I thought you were dead. We got here and I thought it was someone who knocked out after their jog, but then Bruno ran straight to you and I saw the hair and the sweater and your stupidly adorable striped socks and I lost it.”

    His grip tightened, his hot breath murmuring in my ear, “You think they’re adorable?”

    **That’s all he heard? You’ve got to be kidding me.** I jolt back from the hug and glare at him, my arms crossed against my chest.

    He chuckles and shakes his head, “I’m sorry.”

    As I glared at him, it dawned on me. He was wearing the same clothes from yesterday. He’s not expecting the blow as he stares at me wide eyed. I smack his shoulder without skipping a beat, one after the other. “Why are you wearing the same clothes? Did you sleep here? Please tell me you didn’t spend the night. Tell. Me. You. Didn’t. Spend. The. Night!” I smacked him with every syllable.

    “Dani, I can explain.” I ignored him and continued smacking him. “Hey stop that, it hurts.” I didn’t listen, but my actions were cut short. He caught my wrist in his grip causing me to slip even closer to him. My other hand fell on his thigh, our bodies centimeters apart and our lips dancing perimeters away from each other. He gazed into my eyes, a deepness hidden behind his irises. I look down and suddenly become hyper aware of my situation. I am pressed up against him and aside from my pajama bottoms all I am wearing is a bra. I rip my wrist away from his touch, frantically pulling the now soaked shirt over my shoulders. He looked away rosy cheeked with a fraction of a smile on his lips. **Perve.** He unzips his sweater and hands it to me, “Take it. You’ll freeze in that.”

    “I’m fine.” I hand it back.

    He jerks the sweater forward again, “Don’t be stubborn.”

    I huff, “Fine, but turn around.”

    He perks his eyebrow up, a smirk plastered on his face, “What for? I’ve already seen everything.” I throw my wet shirt at his face in response. He laughs, “You’ve got good aim.”

    I zip the sweater up all the way and stand. “Shut up, tell me what happened.” His smile immediately falters and the creases in his eyes disappear.

    He stands next to me, but avoids my comment pointing at the sunrise before us. “Look, we should take a walk along the shore.” He grabs my hand with no hesitation and pulls me towards the waves. Nothing is said for a few minutes, but the itching thought of what had happened last night was crawling in my head.

    “Lix?” He hums a response and looks me in the eye. “Can you please tell me what the hell happened?” I speak softly and squeeze his hand. **Please, I need to know.**

    A tired sigh escaped his lips. He ruffled the sand out of his hair as he mumbled, “I think I broke her.”

    My eyebrows twist in confusion, “What?”

    “Mum," he says.

    “I’m not understanding.”

    He swallowed thickly, his adam's apple bobbing up and down, “I blew up on her. Pretty wild, huh?” The sarcasm in his voice stung. He was hurt. Bad. He didn’t let me finish as he half smiled and said, “She didn’t say much.”

    “Did you give her a chance to?” He shook his head. “But was she willing to talk?” Again he only nods. I nudge closer to him and tuck our hands into the pocket of his sweater. “Give her a chance, Lix. She’s trying.”

    He nods and pulls our hands out. He takes me down with him as he plops himself onto the wet sand. I protest as the tide comes in and wets the soles of my shoes. I sit up and turn to look at Felix, but his eyes are closed. He looks at peace despite the bottom of his socks having been soaked. He mumbled, “Still scared?” I stare at the ocean, at the vastness and its grandiosity.

    I gulp and shake my head. “No,” I lie.

    He huffs out a smile, “Liar.” He tugs at my hand, pressing it against his chest. “Dani?” I turn expecting to see him resting, but his eyes are trained on me. He gives my hand another squeeze and whispers, “Lay with me. Only for a little, I promise.” The waves seem to carry his voice drowning it in all of its noise. I lay down, slightly uncomfortable by the moisture of the sand. He murmurs my name again; I hum in response waiting for him to speak. “Thank you for worrying about me.” I don’t say anything and he doesn’t pry for a reply. We lay in silence, the salt water kissing our feet, my hand in his, and Bruno happily sleeping on my belly.

 

                                                                                                                           ****

    “What the hell happened to you two?” Candela stands behind the counter, her hands angrily resting on her waist. Felix and I both look down. Our bottoms are half soaked and Bruno has seaweed tangled in his tail, who miraculously managed to bring it along without the two of us noticing. “ _Sácame eso de aquí!_ ” She points at the seaweed that is now creating streaks of water across the shop as Bruno runs around. She throws her arms up in exasperation and I instantly regret letting Bruno in the water. “I just cleaned, _mija._ ”

    Felix leans in and whispers, “I’ll clean up. Go change before her heart goes into cardiac arrest.”

    I pick up Bruno frantically, a slap of his tail earning the unpleasant taste of salty water. “What about you?”

    “I’ll roll my pants up. You’ll have a perfect view of my socks all day,” he smirked.

    I bark a harsh whisper into his ear, “Will you drop that already?”

    “Never,” he huffs. He grins from ear to ear.

    From the corner of my eye I see Candi giving us the stink eye. I hurried past her and let Bruno down once we were out of sight. He made a beeline to the kitchen; he sat next to his bowl, the seaweed still wagging behind him. I sighed devastated. “To the bathroom, Bruno. You can have your puppy chow after I clean you up, okay?” He cocked his head to the side. **Resist, Dani. The puppy eyes won’t work this time.** “Come on, don’t make this harder,” I pleaded. He barked and I caved. I filled his bowl and begged the heavens he would stay still as I unraveled the seaweed from his tail. I exhaled the breath I realized I was holding as I chucked it into the trash bin; it landed with a loud wet squelch. A large white box caught my eyes as I was leaving the kitchen. Curiosity got the best of me and I peered into the box. Inside was a yellow rectangular cake with pink gel frosting that wrote, ‘ _Feliz Cumpleaños, mi niño_ ’ **WHAT?** I sprinted to the room and kicked off my wet pajama bottoms. **It’s Felix, right? Who else does she call ‘ _mi niño_ ’? When’s his birthday?** I rattled my brain for the information, but nothing came up. **Is it today? Is** **it tomorrow? Why didn’t he tell me?** Candi barged through the door, interrupting my crazed thoughts.

    “Why didn’t you tell me it was his birthday?” I practically yelled the question at her, catching her off guard.

    “ _Calmate. De qué hablas_?”

    I pointed vigorously towards the kitchen, wagging my finger back and forth to the point I believed it was going to fall off. “The cake? With the yellow frosting? And pink letters?”

    “Ahhh,” she lifted her finger in the air, “ _el pastel_? Do you like it? I was worried the colors were too bright. I ran out of the usual blue and white an-”

    I cut her rambling short, “Yes, yes Candi the cake is lovely. It really is. He’ll love it, but why didn’t you tell me it was his birthday? I could have prepared something for him.” I paced across the room, flagging my arms around like an inflatable at a car dealership. I spin around. “Don’t give him the cake! Not today. Tomorrow! I can run really quickly to the store tonight.”

    “Dani, why is this so important?” Candi has her arms crossed, a big smile plastered on her face.

    “You’re laughing at me,” I sigh defeated.

    She chuckles but shakes her head. She rests her hands on my shoulders as she speaks. “He’s not expecting anything from you.”

    Defeated I sigh, “I know.”

    She pulled me closer and kissed my forehead. “ _Vamos_ , let’s go eat cake.”

    Candi is about to take the cake in her hands, but I stop her. “Can I carry it?” **It’s the least I can do.**

    We walk out singing ‘Happy Birthday’, my voice small against Candi’s booming one. I can see fear creeping into Felix’s eyes as we make eye contact. Candi sits him down at one of the tables and lights up the sign that reads ‘closed.’ The few seconds we are left alone feel like an eternity. Felix hides his gaze locking it on his fiddling thumbs. I only realize how tightly I was gripping the matches when Candi struggles to release them from my fingers.

    “ _Feliz Cumpleaños mijo,_ make a wish.” She inches the cake closer to him and nudges my shoulder. I muster a smile but my eyes don’t follow; I am sure he can see right through me.

    I clear my throat, “Yeah, you should blow out your candles before the wax melts away.” I don’t mean for the words to come out hard and heavy, but they do. He looks me in the eye and swallows thickly; he closes his eyes quickly after and mutters a whisper under his breath. His hands are pressed tightly against each other as he bows his head. He brings his hands closer and places a soft kiss on the tips of his thumbs. The small action creeps a smile onto my lips suddenly forgetting the bubbling sense of betrayal. Candi’s claps burst me out of my bubble. She hands me a plate, squeezing my hands as she steps away with her serving of frosting. I want to laugh and cut her a slice that she can actually stick her fork in, but I am frozen. My eyes are glued to his as we both awkwardly share the silence with no cake in either of our plates. He clears his throat blinking rapidly; it looks like he’s got a bug stuck in his eye.

    “Do you want a piece?” I chime in with the knife already in hand.

    He nods but doesn’t speak. I hover the knife around having trouble identifying where the surface isn’t covered with a thick layer of frosting. His soft laugh catches me off guard; I clutch the knife tighter as I meet his smile. “I don’t mind the frosting, Dani. She’s made it the same every year; I actually kind of like it.”

    “Oh.” I slouch my shoulders falling with a huff of a breath. **Every year? But why didn’t he tell _me_?** The question is burning, itching and scratching at the back of my head. I must have frozen with my gaze beating lasers into the knife because he shifts closer and sets my arm down.

    “I’ll cut it, yeah?” He smiles and the only thing I manage to do is nod. I watch as he cuts into the yellow frosting helping himself to a very generous amount.

    I stifle a laugh, “Your sweet tooth is going to kill you before you’re thirty, you know that right?”

    His nerves seem to melt as he perks up, “I’ll die knowing I lived life to the fullest.” He leans in and cuts me a thin slice picking up the excess frosting and plopping it onto his own plate. My heart rate picks up at the gesture; I shove a spoonful of cake into my mouth in hopes it will quiet it. But it only grows louder. **Stop it.**

    “What did you wish for?” I blurt out. The beating is still there, so loud I can feel it in my ears. He leans forward and I follow. Our faces are inches apart, the cake preventing us from getting any closer.

    I feel his breath on my cheek as he whispers. “If I tell you, it won’t come true.” A stupid grin grazes his lips.

    I lean back with a thud, shoving yet another spoonful to calm the drumming in my chest. I spin circles in the frosting with the spoon searching for the courage to confront him in the chunks of yellow.

    “I’m sorry," he says.The spoon falls into the plate with a thud; a yellow blob lands on the tongue of my shoe. He speaks slowly yet stutters continuously. “I tell her every year that it’s okay, she doesn’t have to bake me a cake, but she insists. I don’t mind it really. It’s just,” he huffs out a breath and kneads his fingers into the scars in his palms, “I don’t like celebrating today.” He looks up and offers me a half smile that hangs loosely at the corners. “It’s a reminder.”

 **You could have** **confided in me.** It’s dying to come out, but I nod and swallow my words. A part of me understood, but the other half felt hurt, neglected as a friend. **That’s what I was right? A friend. Why didn’t he talk to me about it?** “You don’t have to apologize.”

    “You looked angry when you were holding the cake; if I’m being honest, I was a bit scared. But your eyes changed once Candela left. You seemed hurt.”

    I set my plate down no longer finding security in the yellow painted frosting. “I was.”

    “Sorry,” is all he mumbles.

    “It’s fine. Really,” I let out. The air turns thick around us, covered in yet another awkward cape of silence. I pick up the knife and retrieve his plate. I cut him another slice making sure to drop an extra dollop of frosting on top; the plate slides over with ease. “Felix?” I call his name mid-bite. He looks up with yellow lips. “I’m your friend, right?”

    He licks the frosting off and smiles, “You’re my best friend, Dani.”

    The beating of the drums inside my chest only multiplied and leaped into the base of my throat. I squeaked a measly ‘oh’ and dug my attention back to the array of yellow streaks on my plate. I could feel the blood rushing to my cheeks and in that moment all I wanted to do was disappear.

 

                                                                                                                         ****

    The red numbers on the clock were seeping into my irises; I couldn’t sleep much with Bruno’s snores. And then I remembered. **The list!** I slid my journal out and flipped to the now torn and ratty page. The ink was still intact and the picture of him at the beach was in perfect condition, but the page was bent and wrinkled at the edges. I squinted heavily in the dark, pen in hand. I scribbled with excitement, remembering his wet striped socks in the sand and how he almost gave me a heart attack. I paused and smiled at what he had said earlier today. I wrote ‘best friend’ in all caps with a line flowing below it. I slid my journal back under my bed and snuggled my pillow under the covers. My eyes shut with sudden weary, a single lullaby drfiting me off to sleep. **I’m his best friend.**

 

                                                                                                                         ****

    I fumble with the envelope in my hand, trying to tie a red ribbon around it. There were about a million ways I could have done it, but they all seemed plain and boring. Not good enough to hand it to him; I only hoped he liked the surprise. I brushed past the back room with Bruno following behind me; his tiny paws and overgrown nails scratched at the tiles. Felix was in his usual spot churning ice-cream; he gave me a smile and a nod. I stumbled back and hit the wall behind me. From the corner of my eye, I could see that stupid grin of his plastered on his face. A small chuckle left his lips. Embarrassed, I stayed put, my shoes suddenly stuck to the black and white tiles beneath me. Stuck in my thoughts, I failed to hear the machine come to a stop.

    “How can I help you?” His voice was mere inches from me. Taken out of my flustered daze, I noticed a familiar pattern of stripes peeking out from his jeans. My eyes shoot up, our faces a breath away. My entire body jumps into panic mode. I smack the envelope on to his chest, an invisible string pulling me to his center. His eyes follow the red silk with a raised eyebrow. “You bought me lottery tickets?”

     I’m stuck in a trance, my hand sewn to the baby blue of his shirt. But I yanked my hand away as his warm touch met my own. “No. Open it.” It feels as if the air has been blocked from my lungs as I search his face for a reaction. He doesn’t smile or speak as he holds the tickets to DreamWorld; his finger twirls around the ribbon. “You don’t like rides, do you? I could get a refund-”

    My words are cut short as he speaks. “No,” he stops, glancing at the tickets once more before meeting my gaze, “I want to go.” He smiles wide and nods, “It looks fun.”

 

                                                                                                                   *FELIX’S P.O.V*

    The ride was quiet; Dani’s eyes were closed as she listened to music. The purple mp3 player was tightly held to her chest. She says she always carries it around now even though she’s saved enough money to buy a new phone. ‘It’s nice,’ I remember her saying, ‘It's small, fits in my pocket.’ The silence never bothered me. Not with her. Especially in this moment. I wanted to cry when I saw what was inside the envelope. But I blinked the tears away because I didn’t have the heart to tell her. I shut my eyes and sunk farther into the seat knowing I’d have her by my side.

 

                                                                                                                          ****

    Everything looked as I’d imagined. Apparently, the park hadn’t changed in years; it was just like the pictures. I used to print them out and waste my mum’s ink only to paste them behind the cupboard; it was the perfect view for my dad. I hinted at it for months before my birthday, until mum and dad caved before I’d waste the fifth ink cartridge that month. I’m ripped from my thoughts by a harsh yank on my wrist. I look up and gulp. The Giant Drop was definitely not on my bucket list.

    “Aren’t you a little hungry?” I stuttered. I mentally curse myself as I see the smile creeping onto her lips. **Shit, I blew my cover.** I point at the stand behind me hoping, praying she’ll give me mercy. “Those corn dogs look amazing.”

    But she steps closer, a devilish grin now at full play. “Are you scared?”

    I kick the non existing dust off the ground and secretly feel my pulse. It’s pumping. Heavily. **Yup, definitely scared**. Determined to not give in I play it off. “Me? Never.”

    Her eyebrow arches, her smile never faltering, “Okay.”

    Without a second to compose myself, I am dragged to the line. I glance at the wait time; it reads thirty minutes. **Great.**

 

                                                                                                                           ****

    Thirty minutes went by faster than I hoped. We were next in line and I was shitting bricks.

    “You okay?” Dani chirped. She practically jumped in glee; this girl was going to be the death of me.

    I huffed out a laugh, “Never better.” My nerves radiated off my body; they bounced off every word I muttered.

    “Relax,” she rubbed the sleeve of my shirt, “Life’s about having fun, right?”

    I close my eyes. **Breathe, inhale, exhale.** The nerves were really settling in. “Totally.”

    She laughed. _Laughed._ “Just breathe,” she said, “Come on, it’s our turn.”

    **Holy fuck. I am so screwed.** We sit and I immediately pull the bars over my head, gripping them as if my life depended on it. And frankly, it did. I pushed the air in and out of my mouth with a stupid intensity. To others, it probably seemed like I was giving birth.

    “Is he okay?” I hear the guy in charge of the ride ask Dani.

    “He’s fine, he’s just a little nervous,” she chuckles. **I. Am. Not. Fine.** But I could not find the strength to open my mouth.

    “First time?” he asks, turning his attention to me. I only nod, my hair sticking to the sweat on my forehead. He pats down on the bars and smiles in what I am sure is an attempt to calm me, but his words make me even more terrified, “Good luck, mate!”

    My head snaps to Dani. “Good luck? Why did he wish me good luck?” If her next move was to comfort me, I didn’t let her because the only thing that I could slip through my lips was, “We’re gonna die, holy shit we’re gonna die.”

    I feel a pang in the middle of my chest; it’s her hand. “Felix, it’s a ride! We’re not going to die. You’re going to be fine.” The tears are threatening to spill as I shake my head, but Dani’s small voice brings me back. “Hey,” her hand slithers down from my chest to my fingers. Our hands lock, a light squeeze coming from her, “ ‘Just a little braver’, remember?” She raises her free thumb in the air with a smile.

    My heart drops. ‘Just a little braver,’ mum used to say when I was younger. I was afraid of the dark, but she always made me feel better; I’ve stuck with it ever since. It’s something I’ve told Dani from the start too. She’d tense up at the register, stumble with her words and most times scramble with the customer’s change in her hands. It would fall to the ground and she’d curse herself under her breath, but I’d pick it up and whisper to be just a little braver. The memory evaporates into the clouds as I freeze in my surroundings. We are no longer on the ground; the blood rushes to my head as I see our feet dangling in the air.

    “You ready?” Dani’s voice was louder against the wind.

    And we drop. The air rushes out of my lungs and my grip turns my knuckles into a sheet of winter snow. I scream and I scream and I scream. Loud. Dani was laughing as my soul left my body. **How the hell is she enjoying this?** The hiss of the ride coming to a stop brought me back to my senses; I was dead but I was alive. I was so ready to get off the drop from hell, but I hear, “There’s no one in line. Want to go again?” And my heart stops. My eyes are popping out of their sockets as I shake my head grasping Dani’s hand in a tight grip.

    “No.” I tug harsher, “I can’t.”

    “Sure you can.” A huge grin adorns her lips. And once again we are launched into the air.

 

                                                                                                                             ****

    “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” I stumble at her words, finding comfort in the railing beside us.

    “My legs are literally jello.”

    She leans in close. Her smile practically radiating through her breath. “But you’re fine.”

 **The hell I am!** But what comes out is, “More or less.”

    She forces my fingers off the railing; they’re slippery with sweat. “In perfect condition for another ride.” **Shit. I should’ve thrown up or something. Made it more** **believable.** My fingers slip through hers with ease. She hangs on tight, an excruciating grip on the invisible leash she’s got hung around my neck. I follow her finger as she points at another heart attack inducing ride. **Oh God. Take me now**. “That one looks fun,” she points at Tower of Terror II. I plead, but my pleas of fear only causes the dimple at the corner of her lips to grow deeper. I’m thrust behind her, my feet skidding on the ground to her wicked command. “You’ll love it,” she says.

    I glare trying my best to mimic her beady eyes and laser gaze. **You know damn well I won’t**.

 

                                                                                                                            ****

    My head is spinning. I hang onto the railing, my head buried in the safety of the bushes below me. The leaves are blurry and seem to be moving? **Holy crap, I** **might actually throw up this time.** “I think I’m dead,” I huff out through tight lips.

    “Alright, I think I’ve made you suffer enough. What do you want to get on?”

    I spring back up completely forgetting about the bile and vomit gurgling in the back of my throat. **Finally. Time for the real fun**. We walk in the opposite direction; my feet pick up as soon as Dorothy’s Rosy Tea Cups come into view. “You’re kidding," she lets out.

    “Hell no! I’ve been wanting to ride these ever since I can remember.” I run to the nearest tea cup, Dani following grudgingly behind. She glares at the mum’s, her laser cut searing a hole into their heads and an even bigger one in mine. Two grown teenagers riding tea cups. She’s mortified, but I’m ecstatic.

    “You’re such a kid, you know that?” she says as she plops down in front of me.

    I shrug her insult off as the ride starts. “Now this,” I signal with my finger, “is fun.” She rolls her eyes with crossed arms. I slap my hand down on the wheel in the center, eyeing her with the same wicked grin she gave me. **I’ll show her; I’ll give her a taste of her own medicine.**

    Instantly, her eyes snap to wheel. “What are you doing?”

    I grin and turn the wheel as fast as my hands can take me. “Taking this baby out for a spin!”

    She slaps at my hands, “The hell you are!”

    It’s my turn to laugh as I keep circling the wheel around. Our surroundings are but a blur. Dani is turning an abnormal shade of green, the little tiny stars above her head multiplying by the second. “You can drop 100 feet, but can’t handle a little spin?” I shake my head, grinning like an idiot. “Who’s the wuss now?”

    “Shut up,” she mutters. Her eyes are tightly shut, the sides of her seat cracking from the hulk like grip she’s got on it. To my disappointment,the ride comes to a stop. The world around us comes back into focus. Dani struggles stepping off; her legs are visibly shaking.

    I leaned in close and whispered, “Doesn’t feel so nice, does it?”

    Her voice is a hush against the hustling voice of the crowd. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled.

    “Excuse me, what was that?” I cup my ear with my hand, poking fun at her. **She’s cute when she’s embarrassed.** Her cheeks flare up easier than you’d expect them to.

    She shoved her elbow into my side, a rosy tint under her green expression. “Don’t push it.”

    Stippling a laugh, I take her hand. **I don’t want her to fall.** A child’s laughter tears me from reality. I glance in the far distance. I see a child and his father holding hands; they’re coming this way. I push the lump in my throat and swallow it blinking away the tears pricking the corners of my eyes. **Not now.** But I fall into the loop again. I can’t help it; I see myself. Laughing. Smiling. Happy. In the hands of my father. A sharp tug rips me to the present; it’s Dani.

    “Hey, you hungry?” Her voice is soft, eyes big like a puppy. **She looks worried.** I answer with a nod. “How about that corn dog stand you mentioned earlier?” she suggests, but I shake my head. I point to the parlor across from us. “Felix, we literally work at an ice-cream shop.”

    “But they have milkshakes.”

    “Fine, let’s go eat more ice-cream,” she mutters under her breath, “as if we don’t have enough of that every day.”

    “It’s a milkshake!”

    “It’s ice-cream,” she throws her hands up in the air, “through a straw!”

    “Whatever,” I start walking, “I want it.”

    I hear Dani’s grunts as she trails behind me.

 

                                                                                                                            ****

    With one foot in, we are immediately bombarded with a welcome from the hostess.

    “Hi! Welcome,” she hands us a menu, “Before you order, would you like to consider our Sweet Cake Shake Special?” she points to the bulletin behind her.

    In big red lettering, it read “Couples only.” If that wasn’t a dead give away, the overflowing pink chalk hearts sure did. I scanned the menu and found the price on the back. Only $8.50?! And it was massive. Plus, it’s kinda cute. I was gushing over the thought of sharing a shake with her. I was sure the hostess could see the heart eyes puking from my irises.

    I brushed it off and cleared my throat, “We’ll take it.”

    From the corner I can hear Dani’s harsh whisper, “But we’re not-”

    “Would that be all?” the hostess cuts her off.

    I nod and off we went to be seated. All the while, as we walk to the back of the parlor, Dani is spitting fumes. “We are not a couple, why would-”

    “It was cheap,” I cut her off, “Did you really want to pay 12 dollars for a banana float?”

    “Who said I wanted a banana float?” She crosses her arms and squints her eyes.

    “I saw you eyeing it as soon as the hostess handed us the menu,” I retort. She stays quiet. “Exactly,” I whisper as I politely hand the hostess back our menus and take a seat.

 

                                                                                                                               ****

    As soon as the shake arrives, we are floored. It looked even bigger than the picture.

    “This is huge!” She reaches for the glass but I block it from her reach. **I think it’s time to have a little fun**.

    “I thought you didn’t want any,” I say as I take a bite from the sprinkled cake they placed on top.

    “I never said that.” She lunges forward placing the straw in her mouth, but I push it back teasing her as I take the biggest gulp with a satisfying slurp. But before I can react, she lurches forward again, placing the second straw in her mouth. She blows and the shake bubbles up in my face. I have cake bits and sprinkles on my cheeks. She sits back, victory displayed across her smile. “Well played.” I slide the shake across the table.

    She pulls it to her lips before laughing. “I know.”

 

                                                                                                                               ****

    “Did you have a good time today?”

    “Apart from almost going into cardiac arrest twice,” I chuckle remembering the horrible fears of today, “yeah I’d say I had a pretty great time.”

    A small smile graces her lips, her small dimple coming into existence. **It’s strange, I never noticed it until today. It’s pretty.** I want to tell her but I shake my head and stuff my hands into the pockets of my jeans. “Thank you,” I whisper instead.

    “Don’t thank me yet.” **What?** “I have an idea.” She pulls me inside as soon as we arrive at the shop. We push through the back room and through the beaded curtains and into the bathroom. **What the hell is happening?** I sit on the toilet as she rummages through the cabinet underneath the sink. **What’s she looking for?** I try peeking, but she shoves my face away as she keeps the hidden item held behind her back.

    “You have blonde hair.”

    Out of pure instinct, I reach for my hair tapping it’s sides. “Yes, I can see,” I say sarcastically.

    “What do you think about a fresh new look?” She wiggles the hair dye in my face. **Oh hell no.**

    “I am not damaging my hair anymore than it already is,” I cross my arms, “Have you seen Chris’s hair? Dude’s got like three hairs and it’s all straw.”

    “I’ll only do a little bit. I promise,” she pouts. **God damnit, why does she have to be so cute? Resist, Felix. Resist.** I stand my ground and shake my head, but she keeps pushing it. “Don’t you get bored of the blonde?” She shuffles closer, her small steps deepening the beating in my chest. The instant her hand makes contact with my hair, I’m a goner. She ruffles my hair and I melt in a puddle of mush. The apron she has tied around her waist, the plastic gloves set on her hands, and the purse of her lips are no help. I sigh. **I can’t believe I’m actually agreeing.**

    “Fine,” I mumble, “go ahead.” Her small hop and a clap of her hands causes the corners of my lips to twitch. I nearly cave as I catch the glint in her eye. It reminds me of the day at the convenience store, throwing marshmallows into each other's mouths, walking on the busy streets. I catch myself before I fall. “Hurry, before I change my mind,” I grunt. She mixes the hair dye in a bowl and proceeds to smother it on my hair. I feel a cold blob hit my scalp; my eyes go wide as she rubs in the dye. She’s yanking and pulling at the tips of my hair. There’s messy streaks everywhere and sections hardly covered. “Have you done this before?” I ask fully aware of the true answer.

    I was expecting a lie, some sort of comfort regarding her skills. “Nope!” she chirps proudly. I pounce off the toilet seat, but with a firm grip from her awfully miniature sized hands, she pulls me back. “Relax, I’ve seen Candi do this countless of times.”

    “How long do I have to leave this on?”

    “About 45 minutes.”

    **Great**. **Love that**.

 

                                                                                                                45 MINUTES LATER…

    **I look like a pumpkin,** is the first thought that comes to mind when I look in the mirror. “My hair’s orange!”

    “Calm down, it is not orange.” I face her ruffling my hair in an exasperated state. **Is she blind!?** “Stop exaggerating. It’s more of a darker blonde,” she bites her thumbnail, clearly surprised by the color that actually settled into my hair, “just with a hint of color.”

    “Is it, Dani? Is it?”

    She shakes my shoulders. “You’re such a drama queen. You look good.” I swallow my snarky remark and freeze. The air around us suddenly becomes thick. **Is it** **hot in here?**

    “I look good?” I stutter.

    In an instant, her hands fly off my shoulders. “I mean you don’t look terrible.” She pats my chest awkwardly and mutters, “You’ll get used to it.”

    For a minute, it feels like the world has stopped. We basked in the silence as our eyes did all the talking. She had streaks of hair dye smeared on her cheek and forehead, the apron untouched. She looked like a piece of art. I wanted to touch her, gently. And tuck the curl that had come undone behind her ear.

    “I have something for you,” she perks up. She sprints out of the bathroom. I hear Bruno bark and the squeaks of her shoes against the tiled floors. I hear a few more barks and one loud groan; I laugh. **She hit her hip on the corner of the counter. Again**. She comes in, out of breath, a cupcake with pink frosting in hand. I take it, my heart ablaze by her warmth.

 

                                                                                                                    *DANI’S P.O.V*

    My heart is racing as I hand him the cupcake. I spent hours the night before baking it only because the first two batches were horrendous. I had to throw every single one of them away. I’m a cook not a baker. But with Candi’s help I managed to hash out at least one decent cupcake.

    “I know you don’t like celebrating your birthday, but I felt bad about not getting you anything so this is the next best thing I could think of.” **He wasn’t saying** **anything. Why wasn’t he saying anything?** “It’s a lemon cake with strawberry frosting, I thought you’d like it.”

    “I love it.” His words rocked my heart at ease.

    “How about we take this to the kitchen?”

    He nodded. Bruno barked and ran circles around Felix as soon as he saw him. He bent down to ruffle his ears. “Hey, buddy. How you doin’?”

    I let them have their moment as I walked into the kitchen for a lighter and a candle. I came back to Bruno patting at Felix’s chest trying to reach the cupcake he had up in the air.

    “Bruno, no!” He climbed off and sat obediently next to my side. “Good boy, now stay.”

    “You’re strict,” Felix placed the cupcake in his lap.

    “I have to be. He eats anything in sight,” I sigh.

    I sit next to him, our knees barely touching. I stick the candle in the cupcake and light it, urging him to make a wish. “I’ve already had my birthday wish, remember?”

    “One more couldn’t hurt.”

    I scoot closer closing the gap between us. He smiles and closes his eyes. He presses his hands together, but this time he doesn’t whisper a wish under his breath. He pecks the tips of his thumbs and blows out the candle. **Cute.** I can’t help but smile.

    “Do I have something on my face?” I am snapped back into reality as I stare at a confused Felix.

    “What?”

    “You’re smiling at me all funny,” he points out. **Crap.** **I think I stared for too long.**

    “Sorry, it’s just the thumb thing-”

    His eyes widen, mortification written all over them. “Is it weird?”

    I shake my head. “No, no I just- you did that the other day when you blew out the candles on your cake.”

    He falls face first into his hands. I could hear the muffled groans under his fingers. “Oh, God. You think it’s weird.”

    I reach for him, poking holes in his curtain of fingers. “No, no it’s not weird,” I laugh, “it’s… it’s kind of endearing.”

    He peeks from under his fingers, the brown of his eyes filtering through. “You do?” I nod, my brain no longer functioning. His smile is wide, but it holds a deeper tone of nostalgia. “My dad taught me.” He holds the cupcake closer. “He said that if I held my hands tight, tight, tight, pressed against each other my wish would come true.”

    “What about the kiss?”

    He lets out a small laugh, “Luck. ‘It’ll make your wish lucky’ he used to say; I’ve done it ever since.”

    “On your birthday?” He nods, “And his.” He holds the cupcake out to me. “You know, this was his favorite? Lemon cake with strawberry frosting on top.”

    “Do you like it?”

    He nods once more, his smile slowly falling. “Like father like son.”

    We stay quiet for a second, but I break the silence a few moments later. “I’m sorry.” He was no longer smiling, only twirling the cupcake slowly in his hands. **Way** **to save the day, Dani**. **You’re such an idiot**. “I didn’t mean to bring him up.” And then it hit me. The tea cup ride. The man with his child. It all made sense and it was just clicking in. **I totally fucked up**. “Lix?”

    “Hmm?” he was lost in the pink frosting and blue wrapping paper.

    “Do you remember how you got really excited at the teacup ride? And how you said you’d been wanting to get on them since forever?” There’s only silence from his end. I continued, “I saw the way you looked at them, that man and his kid I mean.” I take in a shaky breath. “That’s the amusement park, isn’t it? The one you were headed to when-”

    “When the accident happened? Yeah.” his voice sounds deeper. Harsher. Against the dark kitchen and cold tiles.

    “Lix,” I place a soft touch on his knee.

    He shakes his head, “It’s okay. You didn’t know,” he gives me a small smile, “and besides, I really did enjoy myself, Dani.”

    “I’m glad,” I whisper.

    “When I was younger, the only reason why I wanted to go was to ride the teacups,” he chuckles and leans into my touch, “My dad tried to reason with me, telling me it was a waste of money. ‘You’re only going to ride one ride Lix,’ he would say. But how can you reason with a three-year old?” He fumbles with the blue wrapper. “And guess what? He bought the tickets anyway.” He was tearing the edges of the wrapper off. “I woke up the day before my birthday bummed out as you’d expect, but he urged me to have cereal that morning. So I did,” he smiles, the wrapper from the cupcake almost gone, “he had stashed the tickets inside; he was a genius.”

    “You must miss him a lot.”

    “I do.”

    With nothing else to say, I wrap my arms around his, gently resting my head on his shoulder. **You’ll be okay.** I squeeze him tight, wishing for it to taint on his skin. A tattoo, a permanent reminder of the happy days to come.

 

                                                                                                                       ****

    The cold wind blows the loose curls to my face. I swat them away as I dig into the pocket of my jeans. I hold out the crinkled, half-folded picture from The Giant Drop.

    “I bought it when you went to the bathroom, it’s a bit creased, but I thought you’d like to look back on it having conquered your fear and all.”

    He takes it and points at the shit-faced expression he’s got going on in the photograph. “It _was_ something. Not my best moment, though.” He tucks it under his jeans attempting to smooth out the creases.

    Before the silence grows any longer and I regret not asking, I blurt out, “How are things with your mom?”

    “She got a job at the supermarket,” he starts, but his expression darkens, “but we’re not talking.”

    “Both of you?” His silence answers my question.

 **She’s reaching out, but he isn’t.** He waves and turns to walk away, but I call his name and I lunge. I hug him tight, my voice muffled against the fabric of his shirt. “I hope things between you and your mom work out soon.” I jump back and flee into the shop, leaving him alone in the dark.


End file.
